The Dragon 2200
by bcampo
Summary: As a descendent of the Savage Dragon, Maxine Chalmers was born with great strength and invulnerability, which she puts to good use on the Chicago police force in the year 2200. There she battles freaks, mutants, and anything elsethe city can throw at her.
1. Default Chapter Title

"My god." said Maxine Chalmers, her mouth agape at what she saw out the window of the air bus. She had seen pictures of Chicago before, but they didn't do the city justice. They were still at a thousand feet, and the traffic around the airbus was a study in chaos. Cars whipped past them to both sides, their little hover engines buzzing like motorcycles. Semi trucks with trailers in tow roared past them and disappeared into the surrounding clouds. If it was like this at a thousand feet, what was it like on the ground?   
A quick moving red and white dot caught Maxine's eye, and as it got closer, she recognized it as a human form. The bold red "W" on the man's chest got instant attention from everyone on the bus, and a moment later, there were people shoving against her, trying to get a better look.   
"Oh, my God!" squealed a teen age girl. "It's Mr. Wonderful." "Oooooh"s and "aaaaaaahhhh"s came from the people gathered in the aisle behind Maxine. Several cameras flashed, and a wife kept asking her camcorder toting husband, "Are you getting this, honey? Are you getting this?"   
The passengers of the air bus waved frantically as he flew closer, and as he flew past the bus, he threw them a wave back. His grin was wide, and his teeth were perfect.   
"What the hell kind of name is "Mr. Wonderful"?" Maxine asked herself.   
An older woman sitting nearby said, "Mind your tongue, Miss. That there is the Guardian of Chicago."   
"I'm sorry." said Maxine. "I'm new in town." She could feel her green skin darkening with a blush.   
"Figures. You sound like a damn hick."   
"I'm from Texas." said Maxine.   
The woman rolled her eyes and said, "Foreigners."   
The way the fin on Maxine's head was positioned could tell you a great deal about her emotions, and right now, it was threatening to stand up and throw off the backwards baseball cap that was covering it. It was the equivalent of hackles on a dog. She took a deep breath, tried to relax, and held the bill of her hat against the base of her neck. That's right, she thought, keep it covered. No reason to attract yourself any unwanted attention here on this bus.   
The bus began to descend down through the clouds. They were moving past the tops of skyscrapers now, and to Maxine's surprise, the traffic was actually thinning out a little. A Freak that looked a little like a gecko was clinging to the side of one of the buildings. His toes each had a suction cups shaped appendage that clung easily to the glass. He held a bucket of soapy water in one hand and and squeegee in the other, which he was using to clean the windows.   
Ahead of them, Maxine could see the sign for the Greydog bus depot. She pulled the bag with her few belongings in it out from under the seat and pulled the strap up over her shoulder. When the bus had docked, the passengers were allowed to disembark. Maxine filed out with them, and then made her way to the immigration center. She gave the clerk there her papers, and he looked them over.   
"Do you have a place to stay tonight, Miss Chalmers? There is a hotel across the street if you need it." he asked her. He grabbed a stamp and began pounding it through her stack of papers.   
"I'm going to the Police Academy." she said.   
"Very good." he said and handed her papers back to her. "Welcome to Chicago. Next!"   



	2. Default Chapter Title

The Dragon: 2200

 # 1

  By Brian Campo

**This is a work of fan fiction.** The Savage Dragon and all related characters are owned by Erik Larsen, and I do not contest that ownership. This story is in no way official and it should not be taken as such. All characters in this story not owned by Mr. Larsen are owned by me, though I would gladly loan them out if asked nicely. 

**Warning:** This story may contain graphic violence, sexual situations and harsh language. If  you shouldn't be reading it, don't.   
  

 First Day on the Job part one

  **City Hall, Chicago, Illinois- **"Just the man I wanted to see." said Capt. Jacob Wallace, halting Police Commissioner Fred Alloway in his tracks.   
  "Hello, Jake." said Alloway. He stuck out his hand, which Jake accepted with a shake. "How are things at the Academy?"   
  "Good, good." said Jacob.  He looked around at the heavy hallway traffic and said, "Look, can we talk somewhere private? I got something I want you to look at." He tapped the file folder he was carrying in the crook of his arm.   
  "Sure." said Alloway, and he turned to speak to the woman who had been walking with him in a low voice. She nodded and continued on down the hallway alone. Alloway lead Wallace in the opposite direction, back toward his office. Several interns were waiting there with papers for the commissioner to sign, but he waved them away and told them to come back later. He held the door open for Wallace and then followed him into the office. Once inside, he closed the door and sat down at his desk. Jacob took a seat on the other side and crossed his legs in that way that only very skinny men could do.   
  "So, what do you got?"  asked Fred, while he closed some appointment books on his desk, and cleared off some papers into a drawer.   
  "New recruit." said Jake.   
  "As I understand it, you get a lot of those down at the academy."   
  "Not like this one. She's different." He slid the file he had been carrying across the desk to Fred, who pulled a pair of glasses out of his jacket pocket. He put them on and opened the file.   
  "I'll be goddamned." he said, looking at the picture on the first page.   
  "My words exactly." said Jake. "I got her four weeks ago. Once I got over the surprise, I figure, this is just some little genetic quirk. She just looks like him, that's all. Just because someone is born that looks like Elvis doesn't mean they can sing like The King. There's no guarantee that she is anything like the Dragon."   
  "But...?"   
  "But, we got her bench pressing Greydog busses filled with bags of sand. We got her two-thirds of the way through a boot camp designed for super powered Freaks, and I haven't even been able to make her break a sweat."   
  "Is she related to him? Great-Great-Granddaughter, or something?"   
  "There's no way of telling. She was adopted at at nine years old, and there don't seem to be any records of her before that."   
  Alloway flipped some of the pages in the book, studying them. "She's got a good school record, I see."   
  "Yeah, she's smart. Also, when you talk to her, you get the strange feeling that she is actually listening to you."   
  "Well, that's got to be weird."   
  "No shit. My sergeants usually have to repeat themselves four times before a recruit gets an order straight. She says, "Yes, sir." and hops to it the first time. It's enough to make a guy want to quit his job."   
   "Well, you may not have to quit your job, Jake. You let this girl graduate and join the force and I doubt you will still have a job, anyway. The mayor is going to shit bricks when he see this."   
  "Yeah, well, I voted for the other guy. Look, Fred, I think this girl would make a great cop. She's got brawn and a good head on her shoulders, and the city needs more cops like her. The mayor and the press are going to eat her for lunch, but I think if we can get her in, she can take it."   
  Alloway, flipped a couple more pages in the file, looking over letters of recommendation from teachers and scores from Academy shooting ranges. He turned back to the first page and looked at the photograph of the girl with green skin and a fin on top of her head.   
  "If the mayor hears that I helped you sneak this by him, he'll probably have my job, too." he said, looking up at Wallace over the rims of his glasses. His eyes turned back down toward the picture of the girl. He stared at the picture for a minute, nibbling on his lower lip thoughtfully.   
  Finally, he sighed and said, "To hell with the Mayor, if you say she'll make a good cop, then by god we'll make her a cop." 

**Three weeks later-** Maxine Chalmers walked into the thirty second precinct with her douffle bag slung over her right shoulder and a plain manilla envelope in her left hand. She wore a large, gray, hooded sweatshirt, a pair of loose fitting black jeans and bright red and white sneakers. On her head, she wore a backwards baseball cap, the bill of which just barely covered the fin that was laid back across her scalp and down the middle of her neck.. She walked up to the front desk and told the sergeant there that she needed to see Capt. Bill Hughes. The sergeant stared at her and her green skin for a moment and then shook off the surprise.   
  "I'm sorry, ma'am." said the sergeant, his face blushing a bright red.. "His office is on the second floor. Ask anyone up there and they'll point the way."   
  "Thank you." said Maxine, and smiled to show there were no hard feelings. She was used to the stares and the looks of shocked surprise. She knew what it was like, there were Freaks that made her jaw drop right open. It wasn't like with racial differences, where you eventually got used to different skin colors and stopped looking. Freaks came in all different shapes and sizes and just when you thought you'd seen everything, the city threw a new one at you.   
  Chicago was now at thirty percent Freak population and would probably double that in the next ten years. Most people believed that the current mayor would be the last to use the anti-freak campaign to win the seat. The Freaks of Chicago were fast becoming the majority, and going against them would be political suicide.   
  It had worked for John Robertson, though. He had won the last election by peppering his tv ads with Freak paranoia and promises of Freak control. The fact that he was elected was proof that there was still a lot of fear in the human population of Chicago.   
  There was good reason to be afraid. There were as many bad Freaks in Chicago as there were bad humans. The problem was that a Freak was capable of a lot more damage than your average human. When a Freak went off the deep end, whole city blocks went down in property value. And of course, the only Freaks you saw on television were the ones who had just turned a downtown shopping mall into a big hole in the ground. They didn't show the normal Freak, the ones who worked day to day on normal jobs, trying to support their families. There were plenty of Freaks on the police force, but if they did something good, the media played it down, instead looking for the angle of how the Freak could have caused the problem in the first place.   
  No, Chicago was not a friendly place toward the Freaks that lived here. Jobs were not easy to come by, and places to live? Ha! Good luck! No one wants to rent to someone who has the potential to turn their property into a disaster zone. There were some legal channels that a Freak could take, but then they ran the risk of getting an anti-Freak judge who would smack them with a contempt charge for sneezing in court.   
  It was no wonder so many of the Freaks turned to crime. It was just about the only way to survive. There was always plenty of work available if you had some kind of super power and didn't mind breaking the law. The Freaks might be at thirty percent population on the outside, but in Chicago's prisons, they outnumbered human inmates three to one.   
 She took the stairs to the second floor of the station, where she asked an asian woman in uniform where Capt. Hughes' office was. The woman pointed down the hallway and told Maxine it was the third door on the left. As she made her way down the hall, she could feel the eyes of the other officers following her. She ignored it.. She knew it was going to be like this. The cops just needed time to get used to her, that's all. She found the door with the Captain's name on it and knocked on it's glass window.   
  A voice inside told her to come in, and she opened the door. She stepped into an office that was in a state of clutter that only a Captain could get away with. The window was open, and she could smell the last traces of a cigarette that had been put out a moment before she opened the door.   
  "Captain Hughes?" she asked the heavy set man behind the desk.   
  He stared at her for a second and said, "Yeah, that's me. Can I help you, miss?" He had a boxer's nose and a broad jaw that looked like it had taken a punch or two in it's time. His sideburns were gray, but there was still more pepper than salt in the hair on top of his head. She guessed he was in his early fifties.   
  "Yes." she answered. " My name is Maxine Chalmers. I just graduated from the Academy, and Captain Wallace wanted me to come see you." She handed him the manilla envelope she had brought with her and stood at ease until he waved her to a chair in the corner. She sat with her hands in her lap and watched him as he read through the papers in the envelope. When he got done, he put the papers back in the envelope and sat back in his chair.   
  "So," he said. "do you got the fin tucked under the hat, or what?"   
  She nodded and took off the hat for him to see. The fin stood up on end, like the feathers on the head of a cockatiel. He grunted in reply to that, put his hands behind his head and leaned his chair far back.   
  "Do you have any idea what you are getting into, young lady?"   
  "I'm becoming a cop." she said matter of factly.   
  "Yeah, but do you know why Wallace sent you down here, to the thirty-second precinct? Do you know what we do here?"   
  "You take the Freak calls."   
  "That's right." said Hughes. "We're just a regular cop shop, until somebody that isn't human starts doing something they shouldn't be. Then the thirty-second gets a call, and we go tangle with them. You ever gone toe to toe with someone who can pitch a Volkswagen like it's a baseball? That's what we do. For every human officer we have here, we have one Freak cop  It's the Freak cop that usually gets messed up. The human cop can't do much more than shoot at the perp, and half the time they're bulletproof, so it's the Freak cop has to jump on him and try to restrain him. We go through a lot of Freak cops. You understand what I'm telling you?"   
  "Yes, sir. You're saying that being a cop can be dangerous."   
  "And you're sure you want to do this? Wallace has nothing but good things to say about you, and I know he's a good judge of whether someone has what it takes to be a cop. We can always use another Freak cop down here, but are you sure you want to do this? If the perps don't kill you, the media will. They catch wind of you, and your every move is going to be printed on the front page every night. They are going to eat you alive out there."   
  "Sir, I've been working my way to being a cop since I was eleven years old. There is not one thing you could tell me that would make me change my mind."   
  "And this isn't some ploy to get yourself some fame in the Dragon's name..."   
  She knew that would come up, but she still felt her face flush red and her hands clench into fists. It couldn't be that she just wanted to be a cop. They had to find some angle, some reason why she would be doing this. "With all due respect, sir, I find that to be insulting. Does every Freak that tries to join the force get this same kind of run-around from you?"   
  "I'm sorry, Miss..." he looked at the file folder for a second, having forgotten her name. "Chalmers. We've never had a Freak apply that is a spitting image of Officer Dragon. There are a lot of people in this town that like the Dragon and what he stood for. There are also a lot of people in this town that remember the damage that was done and the lives that were lost when the Dragon fought his famous battles. They aren't going to be too happy to see another Officer Dragon on the force. If we take you on, the proverbial shit is going to hit the proverbial fan. Do you understand why I would be wondering if you had ulterior motives for joining up with the thirty-second? The last thing we need down here is a super powered Freak who is out to make a name for herself."   
  "I just want to be a cop, sir. Nothing more, nothing less. And, I'm not Officer Dragon. My name is Maxine Chalmers. If you hire me, it's going to be Officer Chalmers, not Dragon."   
  Hughes took a deep breath, exhaled it loudly, and tapped his pencil on the desk. Coming to a decision, he picked up the receiver to the phone and dialed a number.   
  "Dispatch? This is Captain Hughes. I need you to radio Dan Williams and tell him to come back to the station. And tell him to make it snappy." He hung up and turned back to Maxine. "Come with me, we need to get you a uniform." 

  Half an hour later, Maxine walked out of the women's locker room in a brand new set of police officer blues. Hughes, who had been waiting for her outside, told her to follow him and lead her to the armory.   
  "I suppose they trained you with a Faustin at the academy?" He said over his shoulder.   
  "Yes, sir. I know how to use them." Faustins were semi-automatic 28 mm handguns. They were pretty much standard police sidearms down at the thirty second, since most of the criminals had gone bulletproof. You could be as bulletproof as you want, but if you got hit with a slug an inch and quarter in diameter and it was traveling at the speed of a nine millimeter round, you were going to be on your ass. It didn't matter if the round penetrated your armor, if you got shot with a Faustin, the next thing you would be seeing was blue sky, when you landed flat on your back.   
  Learning to shoot a Faustin was an odd experience. Because of the size of the bullet, you expected a hell of a kick from the gun. There was barely any kick in reality. The secret was in the bullets themselves. Each cartridge had three parts: the bullet, the gas chamber (gunpowder was replaced with a more potent natural gas derivative, Propatane), and a chamber in the back that was filled with a thick gel. When the gun was fire, the gas chamber was shoved back, but instead of shoving against the frame of the gun and making it kick, it shoved into the gel chamber, which absorbed the shock. The result was a kick only a little more powerful than firing a twenty two. The hardest part of firing the gun was actually supporting it's weight. The bullets were heavy, and the gun it's self was rather large. For humans, it was a two handed ordeal just to keep the gun held up high enough so you could aim at what you were shooting. Maxine could fire it proficiently with either hand, the weight didn't bother her.   
  Hughes asked the officer in the armory for a Faustin, ammunition for it, and the paper work to check one out to Maxine. While the clerk went to get everything, Hughes reached into his shirt pocket and then held out his hand to Maxine. She saw that he was handing her a badge. She took it from him, and he said, "Don't make me regret this, Chalmers. Okay?"   
  "I won't, sir."   
  "On payday, you might want to think about buying yourself a some more uniforms. In all the pictures I've ever seen of the Dragon, his uniform was either in shreds or gone."   
  "I'll do that, sir. Thank you."   
  When they were done getting her gun checked out, they left the armory and were greeted by a cop in the hallway outside. He looked to be in his late twenties, with close cropped red hair and a friendly face. He was skinny, and it looked like he always had to worry about the weight of his gun belt pulling his pants down.   
  "Hey, Captain." he said. "Dispatch said you wanted to talk to me."   
  "I do, Danny." said Hughes. "I got someone I want you to meet. This is Maxine Chalmers. She's your new partner. Maxine, this is Daniel Williams."   
  He was naturally a little surprised, he held out his hand to shake Maxine's. "You look just like the Dragon." he said.   
  "I get that a lot." said Maxine. "You can call me Max."   
  "I'll do that." said Danny. His eyes kept wandering over to the Captain and the expression on his face clearly said, "Just what the hell are you getting me into?"   
  "Now, Danny." said Hughes. "I want you to take her out and start showing her around the town. Take it easy, try to steer clear of trouble, and let her get a feel for the job. Try to bring her back in one piece."   
  Danny chuckled nervously. "I'll see what I can do. You ready to go, Max?"   
  She nodded and followed him out to the garage. "You just get out of the academy?" he asked her once they were out of earshot of the Captain.   
  "Yeah. Why?"   
  "Oh, you just got that wet behind the ears look. You look as scared as I was my first day here." He grinned, and Maxine thought she might get to like her new partner.   
  "How long have you been on the force?" she asked him.   
  "Eight years." He pulled a PIN card from his pocket and slid it through the slot on one of the police cruiser's doors. He got in on the driver's side and unlocked her door for her.   
  "So, what do you do?" he asked as he started up the car.   
  "What do you mean?" She put on her seat belt and adjusted her gun holster so that she could sit comfortably.   
  "What are your superpowers? Same as the Dragon, or can you shit fire, or what?"   
  "I can lift small buildings and I break stuff really good."  She smirked at his tactful way with words.   
  "Oh, yeah?" He looked a little surprised. "You don't look all that big. Are you invulnerable?" He drove the car out the garage, and then turned on the hover craft turbines. The car lifted off of the street and they started gaining altitude.   
  "From the muscle in I'm invulnerable. My skin can be cut or burned. If I bang my hand real hard, the skin will bruise. Why all the questions?"   
  "Just curious." he said. "I like to get to know my partners. It's kind of important to know if they are invulnerable. My last partner wasn't."   
  "What happened to him?"   
  "Killed in the line of duty. Got hit by a plasma blast or some damn thing. Blew off everything from the knees up."   
  "I'm sorry." said Max.   
  "He was a Jack Ass." said Danny.   
  "Oh." she said, arching her eyebrows and rolling her eyes in wonder. It was good to know he cared so much for his partners.   
  "No, I mean it. He was a Freak. He looked like a donkey. When he kicked somebody they would fly for a mile."   
  They were cruising up through Chicago's busy air traffic now. Hover cars had become so popular over the last fifty years that it was less nerve wracking to drive on the streets below. There were some signal buoys and signs here and there, but it was pretty hard to direct traffic when all of the vehicles were driving at different speeds and different altitudes. Basically, when you drove the skies, you kept one eye looking out the windshield and one eye on the proximity radar and hoped the guy in the car headed in the opposite direction was doing the same. Traffic laws up here were sketchy at best, but the city gave the cops a lot of leash when it came to reckless drivers.   
  "So, are you from Chicago?"   
  "No." answered Maxine. "I grew up in Texas."   
  "Oh, yeah? When did you move to the States?"   
  "Two months ago. I came out here to join the Academy."   
  "I'm surprised the Texas Rangers didn't try to recruit you. They like you rough and tumble types."   
  "They did. My dad is a ranger. I wanted to go my own way, so I applied to the Academy.  What about you? How did you end up being a cop?"   
  "The people in my family have always been cops. That's what we do. We just kind of assume from birth that we will end up joining the force someday. There's no use fighting it, if you are a Williams, you will end up a cop."   
  "Do you like it?"   
  Dan shrugged. "Most of the time, yeah. Every once in a while, you'll get a Freak who shoots snot out of his finger tips or something, and I think about quitting. I keep saying, "Nothing is worth this. I'm never coming back to this piece of shit job."   
After a long hot shower, I'm ready for more, though."   
  " 32." squawked the radio.   
  Dan picked up the mike and said, "This is 32."   
  "Animal Control is calling. They need backup with a Freak dog."   
  Dan rolled his eyes and said, "What's the addy?" He reached into a holder attached to the dash of the car and pulled out a pen and paper, which he handed to Maxine.   
  "2238 West Larsen avenue."   
  Maxine scribbled down the address and Dan rogered out on the radio. He turned the wheel and stepped on the gas.   
  "This is classic 32nd precinct bullshit." he told her. "You see, whoever made the call to their precinct probably said something to the effect of "The dog is freaking out.". As soon as their dispatch heard that word, "Freak", they panic and call the 32nd. Now we are headed over with guns drawn and it's probably a poodle stuck in a drain pipe or something."   
  "Should I have my gun drawn?" asked Maxine.   
  "Just a figure of speech." said Dan. "Relax. This isn't going to be a big deal."   
  They skipped through the midmorning traffic, leap frogging over, under and around the other cars, sirens blaring and lights flashing. Maxine grabbed the arm rests for her seat and held on tightly as Dan maneuvered this way and that. She hadn't decided yet whether Dan was a good driver and had a lot of confidence in his abilities, or if he was a really stupid driver. They were having a lot of close calls and narrow misses, but he didn't seem to be noticing.   
  Less than five minutes later they were pulling up outside a two story blue and green house. Animal control was waiting outside by their van, hands in their pockets. A large woman in a pink moomoo house dress was standing on the porch ringing her hands and looking very worried. A crowd of  neighborhood children and adults were gathered in the yard.   
  "Look pissed." Dan told her, and opened his car door.   
  "Here comes the Freak Patrol." Maxine heard one of the animal control men say as she got out of the car. She slid her baton into her belt and gave them a cold squint as she walked towards them. They stared at her fin and green skin and looked fidgety.   
  "What seems to be the problem?" Dan asked them.   
  "This ladies dog went Freak on her, and it's got her kid cornered down in the basement."   
  Dan suddenly looked like he was taking this seriously. "Is he all right?"   
  "Yeah, for now. He jumped into the freezer, and the dog can't get to him. But if we don't get him out of there soon, he's either going to run out of air or freeze to death."   
  "What does the dog do?" asked Maxine.   
  "Don't know. Haven't even seen it yet. I just know it's big. The kid and the dog were upstairs when it went Freak. It fell through the upstairs ceiling, through the downstairs floor, and into the basement. It tried to get up the stairs, but the staircase collapsed under it."   
  "Come on, Max." said Dan, and he started for the house. The woman in the house dress hurried down the steps to meet them.   
  "Are you here to help my baby?" she asked them, rubbing at her eyes and sniffing.   
  "Your son will be fine, ma'am." Dan told her.   
  The woman looked at Maxine, and was a little taken back at her appearance. "You look just like the Dragon." said the woman.   
  "Yes, ma'am. We need to know your boy's name."   
  "His name is Tony. Do you want to know the dog's name?"   
  Maxine resisted the urge to shout, "Why in the hell would I want to know the dog's name?!" and instead, nicely said, "Yes, ma'am. That would be good."   
  "Petey. I don't know what's gotten into him. He's not usually like this. You're not going to have to shoot him, are you?   
  "Not if we can help it, ma'am."   
  Dan went through the front door and Maxine followed closely. The damage to the house was extensive. There were matching holes in the floor and ceiling of the living room, each about six feet across. There was a door leading to the basement in the kitchen, and someone had slid the refrigerator over in front of it. Apparently they were worried the dog would find a way up to the door. Maxine slid the fridge out of the way, while Dan pulled his gun out of his holster. She did the same and took a step back so he could open the door.   
  Dan carefully grabbed the doorknob and then silently mouthed the words, "One, two, three." and jerked the door open. Maxine slid forward, covering the entrance with her gun. No sign of the dog. The staircase lay broken and splintered eight feet below them, like the animal control men had said. Maxine signaled to Dan that she was going down into the basement, and he nodded in reply. She crouched down, put her free hand on the bottom the door way, and hopped down onto the broken lumber. As soon as she hit the ground, she crouched low and brought her gun up, waving it back and forth and  looking for targets. Dan dropped next to her a second later and almost lost his balance on the rubble. Maxine used her free hand to steady him until he found his footing.   
  "Ready?" she whispered to him.   
  "Yeah, let's do it." he muttered back.   
  "Tony?" Maxine said in a loud voice. There was thump from the freezer.   
  "Tony," she continued. "This is Officer Chalmers of the Chicago Police department. We're going to get you out of here, all right?"   
  After a few seconds, they heard a muffled, "Ok." from the freezer. Maxine stepped out onto the concrete floor of the basement and took a few tentative toward the freezer. From the far end of the room, there was a low rumbling growl, and it sounded like something very big was getting up off of the floor. Dan crossed behind her, his gun trained on that end of the room. It was dark down there, and they couldn't see what was making the noises.   
  "Get the boy." said Dan.   
  "I think I should take the dog and you should get the boy." said Maxine.   
  "I was hoping you would say that." he said, and he walked sideways to the freezer. The freezer light lit up the basement with it's weak glow when Dan opened the door, and Maxine got the impression of a large black shape on the other end of the room.   
  "Be real quiet." she heard Dan whisper to the boy.   
  "Ok." stammered the boy, his teeth chattering horribly.   
  The thing at the end of the room began to snarl, and started moving their way. Maxine exhaled and took a shooter's stance, ready for anything. Dan clambered up onto the wreckage of the staircase and raised the boy up toward the door way. The dog erupted out of the darkness, and Maxine was so shocked by it's appearance that she forgot to fire.   
  It was a pomeranian. A pomeranian the size of a rodeo bull. It looked like a giant puff of fur with legs below it and a set of gnashing teeth in front. It ran towards Maxine's right, ignoring her and going after Dan and the boy. She dove in front of it and braced for impact. The dog drove her along the length of the room and into a washer-dryer set, which crumpled under the force and weight of the two bodies. The dog pulled away from her and turned back toward the staircase. Dan was pushing and shoving on the boy's rear end, helping him get up onto the floor of the kitchen above. The dog scrambled towards them, it's feet slipping and sliding on the cement floor. Maxine clutched at it and only ended up with one of it's hind legs. The dog tripped and smacked it's chin on the floor with a with a loud yip. It turned back on it's self, teeth snapping. Max gritted her teeth and swore when it latched it's jaws around her wrist. It hurt like the dickens.   
  "Bad, Petey! Bad!" she shouted, and clubbed the dog along side the head with her gun. In retaliation, the dog turned his head and switched his hold from her wrist to her shoulder. It then dragged her out into the middle of the floor and shook her savagely, like a normal dog would do to a rat. She whipped and snapped back and forth in the dog's jaws, feeling every joint in her body pop under the force of the assault. Her gun spun out of her grasp and slid off across the floor.   
  The boy's mother had appeared at the doorway above and helped pull her son to safety. Once he was out of the way, Dan ran back down off of the rubble and toward the dog.   
   "Please don't hurt my baby!" The woman in the doorway above shouted at them. " He doesn't know what he's doing! He's a good dog!"   
  Dan raced in close and drove the toe of his boot into the dog's side, eliciting a yip of pain from it. It let go of Maxine and turned to snap at Dan. Maxine was up in an instant, shoving herself off of the floor and onto the dog's back. It twisted, trying to bite at her, but she kept out of it's reach. The dog backed itself across the floor, shaking itself, trying to dislodge Maxine from it's back. She slid one arm under it's front leg and then up over the back of it's neck. A second later she did the same with the other side, trapping the dog in a full nelson. She applied pressure, ever so slowly, until the dog was forced to drop and roll over onto it's side.  She wrapped her legs around it and pinned it's back legs back with the heels of her boots.   
  "Cuff it's back legs." she told Dan. He pulled out his cuffs and did as she told him. The dog would make a little jerk every couple of seconds, but she could tell from it's breathing that it was calming down. It knew it wasn't going anywhere, so it was giving up the fight.   
  "Ok, Dan." she said. "Why don't you tell the animal control boys to get down here and to bring a lot of tranqs." After a pause she said, "They better bring some for the dog, too."   
  Fifteen minutes later, Maxine toted the drugged dog up out of the basement, and out to Animal Control's truck. A crowd was gathered outside and there were several news vans setting up down the street. A reporter and a camera man were running up behind her when she slid the dog into the cage.   
  "Officer Dragon! Can we get a few words?" said the reporter.   
  "My name is Officer Chalmers." she told them, pushing past them and heading back to join her partner. Dan was on the porch questioning the mother and the little boy, who was now wrapped in blankets and being checked out by some paramedics..   
  "How long have you been on the Force, Officer Chalmers?" asked the reporter.   
  "Since about eight o'clock this morning." she said.   
  "You've been on the force for -" he checked his watch. "Three hours, and you've already managed to destroy a house?"   
  She fixed him with a glare and said, "The dog was who damaged the house. My partner, Dan Williams  and I simply rescued the little boy and captured the dog." She turned away from the reporter and made her way over to her partner. Dan was putting up his notebook and stepped down off of the porch to meet Maxine.   
  "I got their statements." he said. "You want to get out of here before any more of these sharks show up?"   
  Maxine nodded and they went to the car, camera man and reporter in tow.   
  "How do you feel about the Mayor's stand on Freaks, Miss Chalmers?" the man shouted at her back. Maxine ignored him and got into the car when Dan got the door unlocked. The reporter was still tapping on their window and snapping off questions when they started the engine and drove off.   
  "Are you the secret love child of the Savage Dragon?" she heard him yelling behind them.   
  "So," she said to Dan. "Do we have any idea what happened back there with the dog?"   
  Dan reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a little sandwich baggy with three pills in it. "The kid gave it some of these. They are supposed to "make you into a he-man overnight" "   
  She took the bag from him so she could have a closer look. "Looks like they work. Did he say where he got them?"   
  "He said he got it from some kids at school but he wouldn't give me any names. I figured he'd had enough for a day so I didn't push him. We can go back and talk to him later. Let's just head back to the station so I can show you how to file a report on this kind of stuff."   
  "You going to give these to the lab?" she asked him, waving the little baggy.   
  "Yeah." he said. "Keep a good hold on those. The last thing we need is them falling in the wrong hands." 

  Fifteen minutes later, they were walking through the front doors of the police station. Every eye in the room was on them as they moved toward the staircase leading to the second floor.   
  One cop, a burly, balding detective, called out, "Hey! Where in the hell did you find that hideous thing?" A sudden quiet struck the room.   
  Dan spun on his heel and started back towards the man. "Watch your fucking mouth, Reeves. That's my new partner you're talking about."   
  "I know." said Reeves. "I was talking to your partner."   
  When Dan caught on a second later, he grinned and started to laugh. "Asshole." he said before turning around.   
  When he got back to Maxine, she said, "You know, I think I'm going to like it here." She snickered, trying very hard not to laugh.   
  "Oh, yeah." said Dan. "Laugh it up, Fin-head."   
  She cackled and followed him up the stairs.   
    
    
    
    
    
  


	3. Default Chapter Title

The Dragon: IFS

# 2

by  [Brian Campo][1] (bcampo@hotmail.com) 

**This is a work of fan fiction.** The Savage Dragon and all related characters are owned by Erik Larsen, and I do not contest that ownership. This story is in no way official and it should not be taken as such. All characters in this story not owned by Mr. Larsen are owned by me, though I would gladly loan them out if asked nicely. 

**Warning:** This story may contain graphic violence, sexual situations and harsh language. If you shouldn't be reading it, don't. 

First Day on the Job part two

"What do you say we go grab a late lunch?"   
Maxine looked up at Dan, who had just got back from dropping off the pills from that morning's fiasco at the lab. "What about these reports?" she asked.   
Dan picked up the one she was working on and looked it over. "Jeez, Max." he said. "It's no wonder you're not done yet. You're being a little too thorough here."   
"I like thorough." she said.   
"And that's good if it's a case that might go to court. That shit this morning, no one is suing anyone, no one is even going to read all of this. Stuff like this, you just make it short and sweet. 'We came, we saw, we kicked it's ass.' "   
"Is that what you wrote on yours?"   
"I didn't do a report. Why would I need to do one if you're doing one? Come on, hurry up. I'm hungry." He scooped up the papers she was working on and stuffed them into her top drawer. "There. If anyone asks about them, just say they're in processing. Let's go."   
"All right, already." she said, pushing out her chair and getting her stuff together. "Where are we going for lunch?"   
"I'm thinking we should head over to my mom's and raid her fridge."   
"Is she going to mind you doing that?" She opened the door for him and followed him into the hallway.   
He stopped for a second, and a strange look crossed his face, like maybe he had never thought about it before. "Don't know." he said. "But she's used to it. You tellin' me you've never ate your mom out of house and home?"   
"I never knew my mom. I was raised by my adopted father."   
"The Texas Ranger, right?"   
"Yeah. He took very good care of me."   
"What's he like?"   
She smiled and said, "Most people think that he is cold and indifferent. They just don't know him like I do."   
"What did he think about you moving to the states?"   
"Oh, he was all for it. He knew I could take care of myself."   
"I guess when your daughter is bulletproof you don't worry as much."   
She giggled at that.   
They took a black and white and drove to Dan's mother's house. The house was nice and situated in a middle class neighborhood. There was an apple tree in the front yard, and flower beds all around the edge of the house. Dan lead her along a walkway next to the house that lead to the back door. He didn't bother knocking, he just opened the screen door and went on in.   
"Hey, Mom?" he shouted. "You home?"   
"I'm in my studio." came the reply from some other part of the house. Dan lead Maxine through the kitchen and down a hallway that was lined with family photographs. Maxine walked slowly, taking a close look at each of the pictures while Dan continued down the hall. Many of them showed men that looked a lot like Dan. They were all dressed in Police uniforms with the same skinny build and red hair. Dan hadn't been kidding when he said there were a lot of cops in his family. Some of the photos were even the old two dimensional kind from the twentieth century. One of the older pics showed two men in plain clothes. One of them was definitely a Williams, skinny, redheaded, and wearing a small mustache. He was holding up a .44 magnum. The man with him was the exact opposite. Tall, three hundred pounds, dark hair, looked a little bit like Elvis. He held a doughnut in one hand and what looked like a .357 magnum in the other.   
"Hiya, mom." said Dan as he stepped through a doorway into a small studio filled with stacks of paintings. Maxine stepped into the room and backed up against a wall.   
"Hello, Daniel." said a woman from behind one of the canvasses. She stepped out from behind it, wiping paint off of her hands. She looked to be in her very late forties, pretty with a slender build. Her hair was fading from dark brown to gray. She paused for a second when she saw Maxine, and then smiled. "Who's your friend?"   
"Mom, this is my new partner, Maxine Chalmers. Maxine, this is my mom."   
"I'm sure you don't want to call me mom, so you can call me Janet." She offered her hand to Maxine, who shook it gently.   
"I'll do that." said Maxine.   
"Mom, you got anything to eat?" Dan left the room, headed back toward the kitchen.   
"There's some sandwich stuff in the fridge." Janet yelled after him. She turned to Maxine and said, "When did you get stuck with him?"   
"Eight o'clock this morning."   
"What do you think of him?"   
Maxine smiled and shrugged. "He seems like a nice enough guy."   
Janet threw her rag down on her worktable and started out the door. "Well, I think a person that small shouldn't have a mouth that big. Come on, we better get in there before he starts drinking right out of the milk jug." Maxine followed her to the kitchen, where sure enough, Dan had the milk jug raised to his lips.   
"You take one drink out of that, " said Janet. "and it's your head."   
Dan sat the jug down and got a cup out of the cabinet.   
"Are you hungry, Maxine?" asked Janet, as she opened the fridge and started pulling out sandwich makings.   
"A little." answered Max. Her stomach had been grumbling for a while now. She sat down on one of the stools surrounding the island in the middle of the kitchen.   
"She should be." said Dan. "She wrestled a half ton pomeranian this morning. She put him in a headlock and dropped his ass right to the floor."   
"Watch your mouth, Dan. Has he been rude to you, Maxine?"   
Behind Janet's back, Dan was shaking his head enthusiastically and mouthing the word, "No.".   
"No." said Maxine. "He's been all right."   
"He used to be such a little prick to his last partner. Always calling him Jack Ass and making fun of his laugh."   
"He was a Jack Ass, Mom." said Dan, stealing a slice of cheese out from under his mom's arm. " She would say, "Andy, why do you put up with it? Why do you let him call you Jack Ass?" Andy would go, "Oh, hee haw, hee haw, he always calls me that." " Dan was making a sandwich of his own, tossing on meats, condiments, and vegetables in liberal amounts.   
"See what I mean?" she said to Maxine. "Andy should have kicked his arrogant little butt. He could have, too, if he had ever taken the notion."   
"Oh, Andy knew I was kidding." said Dan. " He didn't mind."   
"Mmmmmhmmmm." Janet replied to that and then turned back to talk to Maxine. "What part of town do you live in?"   
"My instructors at the Police Academy are letting me keep my cot in the barracks for a few weeks. On payday I should have enough money to get myself an apartment, and get out of their hair."   
"That isn't going to be easy." said Janet. "People don't like to rent to Freaks in this city."   
"I know, I'll probably end up paying double rent on the place."   
"That sucks." said Dan through a mouth full of food. In his hands he clutched the sandwich that he had made for himself, which was roughly four inches thick. Janet and Maxine looked at him with disgust.   
"My god," said Janet. "where do you put it all?"   
"I convert it into charm." he answered, spitting out bits of pickles and ham when he spoke.   
Janet slid a plate with a sandwich and chips to Maxine and told her to eat it if she still had any appetite left.   
"Though I would certainly understand if you didn't." she said, glaring at Dan.   
"Wha?" he said, grinning and revealing globs of bread sticking in his teeth.   
Maxine was too hungry to let something like that keep her from eating. They were three quarters of the way through their meal when both Dan and Maxine's radios and pagers went of. Dan pulled his radio out of his belt and turned up the volume.   
"_nd Precinct, calling all units to the corner of Wade and Valentino. There is a robbery in progress, and Freaks are involved. Repeat, all units from the thirty second precinct go to the Security Bank of Chicago on the corner of Wade and Valentino."   
Dan acknowledged and got up from the stool he had been sitting on. "We got to go, Mom. Thanks for lunch."   
"Yes, thank you." said Maxine. "It was very nice to meet you, Janet."   
"Anytime. It was nice to meet you too, Maxine. You come back again, ok?"   
"I'll do that." said Maxine and started for the door. "Bye." 

**Corner of Wade and Valentino-** Dan and Maxine crouched on the roof of the building across the street from the bank with their guns in their hands. Sirens wailed all around them, and every few seconds, heavy artillery gunfire would shake the building beneath them. Something exploded down below, making their ears pop.   
They raised them selves up slowly and peeked over the edge to get an idea of the situation below. Below them, floating just a little above the ground, was what looked like a pirate ship. It was made from wood, had solar panels instead of sails, and a large tank on each side that gave the craft buoyancy in the air. A set of thruster engines stuck out from the ships aft, giving the impression that the clumsy looking craft could actually move if it had to. A black flag waved from it's highest mast, snapping and popping in the wind. It showed a strange version of the old jolly roger. The skull on the pirate flag was on fire, and where there should have been two bones crossing below it, there were two campfire logs.   
There were four 30 mm high velocity cannons on the ship, two of which were being used to shoot at cop cars down the street and turn them into piles of scrap metal. Several of the cars was burning; apparently that was what had exploded earlier. There were two young women manning the guns, no older than twenty at Maxine's best guess.   
The cops who arrived on the scene before Maxine and Dan had already tried an assault on the girls, and it had gone badly. There were several officers laying out in the open, whether they were alive or dead, Maxine could not tell. She could see other officers hiding in alleyways and behind the burning cars. They would make attempts every few minutes to run out and drag their dead or dying comrades to safety, but the girls on the boat would open fire and force them back behind cover.   
"Great." said Dan, lowering himself down out of the line of sight. "It's the Campfire Girls."   
"Who?"   
"Campfire Girls. They're pirates. They rob banks and hijack electronics shipments and that kind of thing."   
"Why are they called the Campfire Girls?"   
"Because they used to be Campfire Girls. They were a secret division called the black sash level. Kinda like the girl scouts version of Delta Force. They were all very well trained killers, proficient in all weapons and fighting forms. They did corporate assassinations, blew up competing cookie factories, pretty much any dirty work that the Campfire Girls needed done. An FBI investigation about ten years back forced the Campfire Girls to kick out all the black sash level girls and deny any knowledge of their existence. The girls got together and turned to piracy."   
"So, they are all human? What are we doing here?"   
"They used to be human. With all their training, they still couldn't compete with Chicago's Freak criminals. A few years back they all got implants, and I'm not talking about bigger titties. Everyone of them has been cybernetically enhanced, and they are lethal. As you can see, they have no problem with killing cops either. We've got a file on these girls about a mile long back at the precinct."   
"Any ideas on how we're going to take them down?"   
"I was thinking that you could go out and arrest them and I could hide behind you."   
"Stop screwing around. Let's bag 'em."   
"Well, since we don't have time to revise my plan, we'll go with yours." They headed back to their car, which was parked on the far side of the roof. Max stretched through the window and hit a switch that popped the trunk open. Dan followed her around to the back of the car where she began searching through the trunks contents. She came up with two clips for her Faustin, which she shoved into her gun belt. Next she pulled out a bulletproof vest which she began strapping on over her shirt.   
"Why in the hell do you need that?" asked Dan. "I thought you were bullet proof."   
"I am, but my shirt's not. Ever see any pictures of the Dragon after a fight? Half the time he was buck naked. I am not going to be running around down there topless when this is all over with. Now pay attention. This is what I want you to do. Take the car. Drop right down behind the ship and try to take out those shooters."   
"What are you going to do?"   
"I'm going to drop down in front of them, and draw their fire." She turned and ran back toward the edge of the building.   
"Hey." he shouted after her. "It's ten stories down."   
If she heard him, she gave no indication. She reached the edge of the roof and launched herself out into the air. She had several seconds to survey the scene below before the ground rushed up to meet her and she landed with a resounding thud. The pavement beneath her feet broke, buckled, and cracks spread out around her like a spiders web. Three of the Campfire Girls were standing by the ship and they were staring at her with mouths agape.   
"Where the hell did she come from?" one of them asked.   
Maxine leveled her gun on them and said, "Officer Chalmers, Chicago PD. Drop any weapons and put your hands in the air. You will not get another warning."   
There was a whistle from above, up on the ship's deck. Maxine looked up and found herself staring into the barrels of one of the 30 mm cannons. The girl with her fingers on the trigger smiled sweetly and opened fire. Maxine was blown backwards down the streets. Head over heels she tumbled, her body pummeled by the high caliber rounds. Fifty feet back, she crashed into one of the burning cop cars and came to a stop.   
"Did you see that?" said one of the pirate girls in a shocked voice. "Did you see who that was? It's was the goddamn Savage Dragon."   
"The Dragon was a guy." said one of the other girls. "I don't think you really have to worry about her anymore, anyway."   
There was a crash and they turned to see the burning cop car come skipping down the street toward them. They jumped out of the way just before the car bounded past them and disintegrated against the bow of the ship. Maxine stood down the street, looking like a bowler who had just sent the ball down the lane and was waiting to see how well she did. One of the girl's on deck was bringing her cannon around to bear on Maxine. Behind her, a cop car dropped out of the sky, hovercraft engines screaming.. The driver's side gull wing door popped up and Dan shoved his gun out the opening. He fired once and the girl aiming at Maxine toppled over the edge of the ship. He shut the door as the the other 30 mm opened fire and tore into the police car's armor. The car rocked violently from the assault and spun away from the ship. The passenger door opened and Dan dropped out of it. Moments later, the car exploded and fell to the street.   
She had been bought precious seconds, and Maxine used them to race down the street to get close to the three Campfire Girls on the ground. One of them was on her feet, and she jumped into the air to attack Maxine. The skirt of her Campfire Girl uniform blew up to reveal her cybernetic enhancement. From the waist down her body was a construct of steel, pistons and wires. Her waist revolved three hundred and sixty degrees, whipping her feet into Maxine's head with tremendous force. Maxine stumbled back as the girl dropped to the ground and skipped toward her. She raised one leg slightly and lashed out, catching Max in the ribs with a steel foot. She threw herself into the air for another kick, and Max slammed into her like a football linebacker. She put her shoulder into the girl's midsection and drove her into the hull of the ship. The metal of the cyborg parts cracked and crumpled and the girl's lower half fell away from the rest of her body. Maxine stepped back and let the rest of her fall to the ground.   
"Get her, Brandy!" said one of the girls behind her. The other girl, a brunette with shoulder length hair was moving in on Maxine with her hands held out in front of her. Her hands were a dull metal color and as Maxine watched, they began to glow a warm red. In a matter of seconds, the red had changed to a searing white, and though the girl was still five feet away, already Maxine could feel the heat emanating from her hands. Maxine kept her arms down and her hands open, ready for when the girl made her move. Brandy closed in on her, and she was quick. Maxine managed to catch one of the hands before it made contact, but the other slipped past her defenses and was planted right on her throat.   
A scream escaped from Maxine's mouth, and she swung her fist wildly in an effort to get the girl away from her. Her skin was vulnerable to harm, and the burning on her throat and neck had to be one of the more painful experiences of her life. Her right fist caught Brandy under the chin and sent her skidding across the pavement.   
The third girl, a blonde with an eye patch and a hook on one arm, didn't appear to be interested in tangling with Maxine. She pulled a radio from her belt and said, "Mindy, we could use some help out here."   
Maxine started toward the girl, who turned and raised her hooked arm in the air. The hook shot outward, trailing a long cable behind it. The hook caught onto something on the ship above and a moment later the cable began to retract. The Campfire Girl was jerked into the air and out of Maxine's reach.   
WHUDD, WHUDD, WHUDD   
Maxine heard the sound of heavy footsteps from the bank. Really heavy. T-Rex heavy. She slipped her gun out of her holster and aimed it at the bank's front doors. The wall next to them exploded outwards in a shower of stone and dust. A fifteen foot mechanical gorilla stomped out through the rubble towards Maxine, with the bank's vault held above it's head. The ground shook with every step it took.   
"Drop it!" said Maxine. Then a moment later she realized what she had just said. "Ah, shit..."   
The gorilla slammed the bank vault down on top of her, caving the surrounding street into the sewers below. It grabbed the vault and picked it back up out of the hole before looking down inside. Six shots rang out in quick succession, and the gorilla was knocked backward away from the hole. Maxine crawled out a moment later, and emptied the rest of her clip into the mechanical monster. It had been getting to it's feet, but it was knocked down again when Maxine shot it. Maxine popped the clip and slid in a fresh one as the gorilla started to get up again. It was dented and dinged, but otherwise it shook off the gunshots. It thudded across the ground toward her on all fours, flattening any debris in it's path. Maxine had only a few seconds before it was on her, and could only get off a few shots. They did no good. It slammed into her like a freight train, dragging her across the street with it.   
She threw away her gun and began pounding into it with her fists. That got a reaction out of it. It pulled her away from itself and then threw her into a nearby building. Maxine was on her feet in a second, and launched herself back at the simian construct. 

Dan raced along the side of the boat, keeping so close to the hull that anyone above couldn't get a clear shot at him. Just as he came around the stern, Maxine crossed his field of vision, flying at about four feet above the ground. She smashed into a metal light pole, which collapsed with a screech. A second later, a large gorilla made of metal hydraulics lumbered into view, bearing down on Maxine. Max grabbed the broken light pole and wielding it like a bat, cracked the gorilla in the head with it. The metal bent over it's titanium cranium, but did not stop it. It raised both it's arms into the air and brought them down on her like clubs, pounding her into the pavement. To Dan's amazement, Maxine took the blows like they were slaps and returned them in kind. The expression on her face looked like she was actually enjoying herself.   
Up above Dan, news craft were starting to crowd the sky, in hopes of getting some footage of the destruction below. The pilots were getting braver now that the gunfire had died down a little and were getting closer to the scene of the battle.   
"Stupid." thought Dan. They were going to be peeling their selves off of the pavement pretty soon. They weren't armored like police cars, and that 30 mm cannon would punch holes in them and their craft like they were made of paper.   
He had been leaning against the ship, and when it lurched, he almost fell over. He found his balance, and then looked to see the ship begin to rise up away from the ground. They were lifting off.   
"Oh, no you don't." he said, running back along the length of the ship. A rope dangled down, and he made a mad dash in it's direction. It was above his head by the time he got to it, but still well within jumping range. His hand snagged it on the first try and he swung in towards the boat. He didn't like the idea of holstering his gun, but he knew he would need both hands to climb. The gun went in his holster, and he began to shimmy up the rope. Already, they were fifteen feet up, and rising.   
The cannon went off at the front of the ship, and the sky lit up as one of the news craft was hit. There was a second explosion when the wreckage hit the ground.   
"Dan?!" he heard Maxine yell.   
"Yeah, Max, I'm here. What do you need?" he shouted back at her as he climbed higher up the rope.   
"I need you to take out the goddamn shooters! I got frickin' cars falling on my head over here!"   
"Hold on." he said. "I'm on it."   
His head peeked up over the deck of the ship and he had a clear view of what was going on there. There was a girl with a patch on one eye and a hook on one arm ordering people around. There were twelve or thirteen other girls doing what she told them, turning the solar sails, balancing the buoyancy tanks, steering the ship. The girl running the 30 mm was picking out another of the news craft to fire at.   
Dan wound the rope around his left arm and let go with his right, so he could get his gun. He rested his elbow on the deck and aimed his gun carefully at the girl with the cannon.   
"Police! Freeze!"   
Everyone on deck stopped what they were doing and turned to look at him. The girl with the 30 mm was the first to make a move. She spun the gun around on it's base, bringing it to bear on Dan. He squeezed off a shot, and her head disappeared in a fine mist. Then all hell broke loose. The headless girl fell forward on the gun and it began to go off. As she continued to topple to the floor, the gun spun back toward the opposite side of the deck, blowing holes in the deck and dropping several of the girls right where they stood. At the end of it's arc, the 30 mm rounds tore into the far buoyancy tank, which exploded in a large fireball and a shower of shrapnel. That side of the boat dropped in a rush, turning the ship on it's side. Dan held on for dear life as he was yanked up and over the ship railing, before swinging in and smacking into the deck. Below him, Campfire Girls were clinging to anything they could, trying to keep from falling the twenty five feet to the ground. The floundering ship spun to the left, and the front of it crashed through the windows of the building next to them.   
Dan loosened his grip on the rope and slid down the length of it. When he reached the end, he was still a good ten feet above the ground. He couldn't stay here, he would have to risk the fall. He let go of the rope and fell to the street below. His ankles took a mean jarring, and the palm of his left hand was skinned pretty bad when he stopped his fall, but otherwise, he was all right.   
The girls were dropping from the ship now, and landing on the ground all around him. They jumped to their feet and raced off down the street. Dan pointed his gun in their direction and shouted for them to stop. Seeing that they had the upper hand, the other cops up the street were running out of hiding. They tackled the Campfire Girls in groups of three and four, pinning them while their partners slipped power cuffs on them.   
Dan heard the whirring of small motors, and he turned to see the girl with the hook descending from the ship above by way of a cable extending from her arm. She landed and retracted the cable and hook line. Her hand reached to her belt, pulling out a cutlass. She raised the arm with the hook and aimed it right at Dan. The hook launched toward him and it latched onto his gun belt.. He was yanked towards her through the air, as she raised her sword and prepared to meet him. He dropped his gun and yanked his baton from his belt. As he was drawn closer, he pulled it back and got ready to give her the what for. She realized too late what he was doing. He cracked the baton into her jaw, and then piled into her. The hook released his belt and he rolled away from her. She dove after him, swinging the cutlass with slices that were meant to cut him in half. He used his baton to fend off the blows, and delivered a few of his own when he got the chance, striking her in the knees and side. Dan got a good blow in, punching her square in the nose with his free hand. She tumbled back away from him, and he raised the baton with every intention of knocking her ass out. She slid toward him, ducking under the baton and hooking of one of the straps on his bulletproof vest. She pivoted, picking him up into the air and throwing him. He tumbled along the ground and came to a stop in the shadow of the wrecked pirate ship.   
With a malicious grin on her face, she threw down her sword and picked up Dan's gun. She pointed it upward, aiming right at the last buoyancy tank.   
Dan put his hands in the air and shouted, "No! Don't do that!"   
She fired. 

Maxine heard the shot and saw the tank explode. She saw Dan right beneath the ship. There was no way she would get there in time.   
The gorilla rose up in front of her, roaring and waving it's arms. She didn't have time for it. There was no way she would get there in time.   
She grabbed the gorilla by the metal plates covering it's chest and heaved it up, up and over her head. It sailed off through the air behind her. There was no way she could get there in time.   
The ship couldn't be that heavy, she thought as she raced towards it. She had lifted more. If she could get there, she could catch it, no problem. But there was no way she could get there in time.   
The gorilla crashed down somewhere behind her. Fifty cops stared in horror as the ship dropped towards the earth.   
"Ahhh, fuck!' she heard Dan shout. There was no way she could get there in time. 

* * *

  
_**~Fin-Fan-Fic-Fanatics~**Letters and comments from readers. Do I rock or do I suck? Write me and tell me what you think. If you don't want your comments put in this letters column, or if you want them taken out, please let me know._

_Damn good stuff. You can be sure I'm going to link that from my page! --_Emporer Mako'Va aka Cody Hopkins

**Here is the [Dragon 2200 homepage][2] (http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html) Where I also post "covers" for the issues and maybe more stuff later on. Thanks for the kind comments.**

_Damn good stuff man, damn good --_Carl Price

**I'm glad you like it!**

_>>Warning: This story may contain graphic violence, sexual situations and harsh language._

_Hey! That's WHY I read SD! --_Shrewy

**These are a few of my favorite things...**

_Read what ya got there so far...and I liked it. Good Job keep up the good work! Good seein some Fan Fick Fin Work up_. --Dulock   
**Thank you. There's plenty more where those came from, I hope you stick around to see them.**

_Dances happily. Something Dragon related!_ --Doralee23 (10)   
**Yeah, there is a big void when it comes to Dragon fic. Here are a couple more sites, if you are interested: [Savage Dragon vs The Hulk][3] , and [Pipeline Script writing.][4]**

_Hey._   
_I just wanted to tell you that I like how your story is going. It's really well written! I'll be checking back every once in a while and see if you add more._

Michael "Big Mac" McKinley

**There will be more, every month. I'm staying ahead of myself by about four months. Thanks for the feedback everybody. I'm having a ball writing these. All of these off the wall ideas that just don't fit in anywhere else are falling into place nicely with the Dragon. Thanks again, Brian Campo**   
****   
****   
  


   [1]: ../bcampo@hotmail.com
   [2]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html
   [3]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/hulkvsdragon.html
   [4]: http://www.nic.com/~augie/fanfic.htm



	4. Default Chapter Title

The Dragon: 2200

# 3

by  [Brian Campo][1]   (bcampo@hotmail.com) 

Visit the [Dragon: 2200 homepage][2]  ( http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html ) for back issues and artwork. 

**This is a work of fan fiction.** The Savage Dragon and all related characters are owned by Erik Larsen, and I do not contest that ownership. This story is in no way official and it should not be taken as such. All characters in this story not owned by Mr. Larsen are owned by me, though I would gladly loan them out if asked nicely. 

**Warning:** This story may contain graphic violence, sexual situations and harsh language. If  you shouldn't be reading it, don't. 

First Day on the Job part three

  Maxine tripped. She had been racing full speed ahead, trying for all she was worth to get to Dan in time. She tripped, catching her toe on a chunk of wreckage from one of the downed cop cars. Suddenly, her head was outrunning the rest of her, and she landed on her face on the street. She slid another couple of feet before coming to a stop. In her head, she started shrieking curses. No! This was not how her first day on the Chicago police force was supposed to go! She was cringing, waiting for the crash of the air ship that would mean the death of her partner, Dan Williams. She had failed him.   
  The crash never came. Instead, there was a loud rush of air and a groan of wood under stress.   
  Hesitantly, Maxine looked up. The ship was suspended in mid air, only seven feet above the ground. Beneath it stood a man wearing a white costume, a red cape, and a cheesy grin half a mile wide. His teeth were perfect, and they sparkled when he smiled. On his hands, he wore a pair of very large gloves. Arcs of electricity or some other energy were crackling around the gloves as he used them to hold the ship up in the air. Laying on the ground at the man's feet, Dan began to chuckle almost hysterically. "Oh, shit, man. You are definitely on the christmas list this year." He rolled over and quickly crawled out of the ship's shadow on his hands and knees. He kept laughing and muttering about how he needed a clean pair of pants.   
  The man holding the boat nodded and turned to the girl with the hook. His expression turned to one of mock sorrow and he said, "This is hardly behavior befitting a Campfire Girl, young lady."   
  Everyone, Campfire Girls and Police Officers alike had been shocked into paralysis from the instant the buoyancy tank had been shot. The girl with the hook on her hand was the first to break out of it. She turned away from the man holding the boat, dropped the gun she was holding, and started to run. Maxine pushed herself up from the ground, got one foot under her, and launched herself at the fleeing pirate. She tackled the girl to the ground and pinned her there. Maxine shouted the girl's Miranda rights into her ear while some of the other officers came running up with cuffs ready. When they had her secure, Maxine let them have the girl.   
  That was it, the fight was over. Police cars and flying paddy wagons were landing all around the area, and the Campfire girls were being loaded up to be hauled off to jail. All that was left was the cleanup. Paramedics were working frantically to save the officers who had been shot during the skirmish. The street was being blocked off so it could be cleaned up. Road workers were being called in to fix the damage that Maxine and the Gorilla had caused in their fight.   
  She walked back over toward Dan, and his savior. The man in the red cape was carefully setting the ship down on the street. He was telling Dan that, "It's all very easy. Just remember to lift with your legs." Dan told him to hold that thought and came running over to Maxine.   
  "Max! Max! Do you know who that is?" He grabbed her by the arm and drug her back over to meet the hero. "Maxine Chalmers, I'd like you to meet Mr. Wonderful."   
  The man in the cape stood up straight and turned to Maxine with his hand extended. "It's nice to meet you, Officer Chalmers." He was startled for a second when he saw what she looked like, but resumed his cheesy grin an instant later.   
  "Thank you for saving my partner." Maxine said as she shook his hand. There was power in those gloves, she could feel it. Not just strength or foot pound pressure, but energy. The little hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end when she touched them.   
  "Think nothing of it, Officer. That's what I'm here for."   
  Maxine found herself wondering if this guy was for real. He just seemed a little...off.   
  "Oh, shit!" said Dan. He was looking closely at Maxine's face. "Will you look at that?!" He poked her on the cheek gingerly with his index finger. Maxine could feel a bruise there. "Is that from what I think it is?" asked Dan.   
  "I got sprayed by one of the cannons." said Maxine.   
  Dan guffawed. "That is so cool." he said. "How many people can get shot in the face with high velocity 30 mm bullets and walk away from it?"   
  "I can do that." said Mr. Wonderful. He put his hands on his hips and grinned proudly. Maxine and Dan looked at him for a couple of seconds, and then Dan said, "Yeeessss, well, thank you again, Mr. Wonderful. We really do have to get back to work." He walked Maxine away from the still grinning hero.   
  "Oh sure." said Mr. Wonderful. "To protect and to Serve and all that. I'm just glad I could be of assistance." The man in the cape spun around, spotted a news crew and headed off in that direction.   
  "He's a little off." whispered Dan. Maxine nodded in reply. As the two neared the end of the block, they noticed a large group of cops gathered around a stop sign. Dan started jumping into the air, trying to see what the crowd was looking at. Not able to see, he tapped one of the cops on the shoulder and said, "What's going on?"   
  "Hey! There she is!" said one of the other cops, pointing his finger at Maxine.   
  "What?" said Max, a look of bewilderment on her face.   
  "Hey, Dan." said the cop. "Look at what your partner did to the gorilla." The crowd split a little, giving Max and Dan a view. The mechanical gorilla that Max had been fighting was impaled clear through on the stop sign. Blood was dripping from the bottom of the sign to where the gorilla lay on the ground below it, and a pool of it was growing around the gorillas body.   
  "Oh, no." said Max, putting her hand up to cover her mouth. Her eyes turned glassy as tears began to well up. "Oh, no." she repeated. "What did I do?"   
  "Hey, relax." said Dan. "It was trying to kill you, Max."   
  Max shoved through the crowd and planted one foot on the beast's belly. She grabbed the chest plate with her hands and pulled on it. The metal groaned under her pull, bending up around where she had her grip. She threw her back into it and hauled back on the plate. It broke off and Max fell back onto the ground. She got to her feet as fast as she could and jumped back onto the gorilla. She looked down into it's chest cavity and moaned in disgust. Dan stepped up next to her and took a peek into the gorilla. There was a girl in there, at least part of one. She had long since had her arms and legs removed so that she could be cybernetically enhanced. The gorilla was her enhancement. She had wires traveling out of the stumps in her hips and shoulders, and more coming out of different parts of her head. The wires lead into the gorilla's insides, in effect making it's arms and legs her arms and legs.   
  The stop sign had nearly cut her in half when the gorilla fell on it. The girl was dead, of that there was no doubt. He mouth was hanging open as if she had been screaming when she met her end.   
  Dan put his arm around Max's shoulder and said, "You can't blame yourself for this, Max. You were defending yourself."   
  "I didn't even realize that there was a human in there." said Max. "I thought it was just a machine."   
  "Yeah, well." said a nearby cop. "Human or machine, you sure stopped it's clock."   
  Maxine wiped at her eyes and tried to turn so that no one could see that she was crying. There were cops in all directions, there was nowhere she could turn to hide her tears.  Seeing that she was falling apart, Dan said, "all right, ya goons, get out of the way. Move it!" The crowd split again, letting Dan and Max back out. He lead her over to one of the parked ambulances and told her to have a seat for a couple of minutes. She sat crossways in the back door of the ambulance with one foot up on the bumper. After a few moments of silence, she said, "I didn't know."   
  "I know, Max. Shit happens. It just shouldn't happen on your first day on the job. You gonna be ok?"   
  She sniffed and said, "Yeah, I think so."   
  He slapped his hand on her shoulder and said, "You did good. What do ya' say we get all this shit wrapped up and go get ourselves a much deserved brew?"   
  "I think I could go for that." she said.   
  "Good deal. First off, we need to find ourselves a police photographer to get some shots of those marks you got from the 30 mm and the burn on your throat. Documentation, that kind of bullshit."   
  "These are nothing." Max told him. "The bruises and the burn only go skin deep.They'll be gone in a couple of hours."   
  "I know, but it's good to have the pics done anyway. That way if anyone tries to bring a lawsuit against us we have proof that they assaulted you. Trust me, I wouldn't be messing with it if I didn't think it was important."   
  "All right." said Max as she slid out of the back of the ambulance.   
  "No, no." said Dan. "Just stay here. I'll go find someone, and they can do the shots in the back of the ambulance where you have a little privacy. They're going to want some pics of anywhere else you got hit and you don't want to be stripping down in the middle of the street."   
  "Ok." said Max, and she sat down while Dan went to find a photographer. She undid the velcro straps on her bulletproof vest and pulled it off. It had taken a lot of punishment when she had been shot,  the kevlar plates inside looked like an egg carton where the bullets had punched them in. She could feel bruises all over her chest where the impact of the rounds had slammed through the metal. Her breasts ached horribly as there was no invulnerable muscle coverage there. Her upper thighs had taken a couple of rounds, but her pants hadn't taken any damage and she was happy about that.   
  Dan came walking back with a man in tow. The man was young, in his mid-twenties, maybe. He had short brown hair and a dark skin complexion.  A camera was hanging from a strap around his shoulders, which he was steadying with one hand as he followed Dan over.   
  "Max, this is Chris Anderson. He's going to take those pics of you so we can get the hell out of here."   
  Maxine said, "Hello." to the man and he said the same back. "So, what's the deal here?" he asked. "Williams here says you got shot."   
  "Yeah, about thirty times. They got me in the face, in my chest, stomach and up here on my legs. The gorilla knocked me around pretty good, too."   
  He glanced at the bulletproof vest sitting on the ground and whistled appreciatively. "That's gotta smart. You wanna hop up into the back of the ambulance here so we can get this over with?"   
  Max ducked into the ambulance and walked toward the front as Chris stepped in and shut the back doors.   
  "You a shy girl?" he asked her as he pulled off the lens cap.   
  "I'm okay." she told him. She unbuttoned her shirt and let him get some pictures of the marks on her chest and belly. She pulled the shirt back to let him get a shot of where the gorilla had dropped the safe on her shoulder and neck and the burn mark on her throat.   
  "Got it." said Chris. "I just need pics of your legs and then we're done."   
  "If I'd known I was going to do a photo shoot today I would have worn my good undies." She told him jokingly. She unbuckled her gunbelt, dropped it onto the ambulance's stretcher and then dropped her trousers. Chris snapped off a couple pics of the bruises on her thighs and then turned around so she could get dressed.   
  "When you get your report filled out on this whole incident give me a call and I'll come sign as a witness. I'm at the twenty-fourth on the West End. Just call and ask for me, I'm usually around the station, doing mug shots and such."   
  "Sounds good." said Max. There was a zipping sound and she said, "OK, I'm decent."   
  He threw open the back of the van and stepped out. Max stepped out a moment later and thanked Chris for his time.   
  "No problem." he replied. "It was nice meeting you, Miss Chalmers."   
  "You, too." said Max. "You think I have a future in modeling?"   
  "If you stay out of the brawls, maybe. I'll talk to you later, ok?" He wandered back across the crime scene, taking pictures and asking questions.   
  "Seems like a nice enough guy." said Dan.   
  "Yeah, he does." said Maxine. She had a slight smile on her face as she watched the photographer disappear amidst the wreckage.

  In his office with the shades drawn, Captain Bill Hughes was watching the latest news on his TV. He looked irritated by what he was seeing. They were already starting in on the new girl, and he had no doubt that they would work themselves into a frenzy soon   
  "Hello, this is Jackie Lapsmick reporting from out front of City Hall where we are waiting for a last minute press conference with the mayor to begin. It is believed that he called this conference in reaction to the sudden appearance of a new police officer on the Chicago PD. This officer, who was identified as a Maxine Chalmers earlier in the day is the spitting image of twentieth century Freak cop Officer Dragon."   
{very old stock footage plays, showing the Dragon fighting a freak with a head like a gerbil. The freak is packing a flame-thrower and is setting surrounding buildings on fire.}   
  The Dragon was the most well known of Chicago's Freak Cops. Even today there is controversy around whether he was good for the city or bad. Many felt that he did more damage to the city than the criminals he was fighting. His last battle, in which he disappeared, cost the city an estimated 6 billion dollars in damages."   
  (footage of Maxine carrying the giant pomeranian out of the house that morning rolls)   
  "Is the new Dragon different? Although she has only been on the job for eight hours, this officer has already been involved in two incidents resulting in high property damage, and even deaths. As seen here, she was called to handle an incident with a Freak dog early this morning, during which several hundred thousand dollars worth of damage was done to the house. Then later this afternoon, there was an altercation in Chicago's financial district when Police Officers attempted to stop a gang of air pirates from robbing the Security Bank of Chicago. When the fight was over, there were eight people dead, two of which were police officers, and five were members of local press. Insurance adjusters arriving on the scene to begin assessing the damage gave us early estimates of twenty to thirty billion.   
  We contacted Police Commissioner Fred Alloway earlier in the day asking him his feelings on the new officer. He told us this:"   
  The commissioner's face appeared on the screen, looking a little more than miffed. "I think you are misrepresenting the facts there, Miss Lapsmick. The police officers that were killed in the bank incident were killed before Officer Chalmers arrived. Our men were pinned down and  the Air Pirates were winning. Once Officer Chalmers arrived on the scene, the incident was over within minutes. As for the members of the press that were killed, they were aware that there is a risk when you fly your news craft down into an area where heavy artillery is being fired."   
  "Do you think that the Dragon cop used excessive force on the young woman that was killed?"   
  "That young girl was hooked into a two ton fully armored exoskeleton. She was trying a kill a Police Officer. She dropped a vault weighing several thousand pounds on Officer Chalmers head. You watch the footage again, and ask your self if she acted accordingly. The Chicago PD stands behind Officer Chalmers."   
  The scene changed back to the steps of the City Hall, where the mayor and some of his men were coming down the steps to speak to the group of reporters  that were gathered there. Jackie Lapsmick shoved her way to the front of the pack, microphone extended.   
  "What are your feelings on the new Dragon, your honor?" said said twenty five reporters at the same time.   
  "I haven't personally met this officer yet, but I've seen some of the damage she's done. I just got back form the Security Bank crime scene about half an hour ago, and let me tell you, I was shocked. It looks like someone dropped a bomb down there.   
  The last thing this city needs is another Dragon cop tearing up the buildings of our fine city and injuring innocent bystanders. And I'm telling you that this administration is not going to tolerate having a Police Officer on it's payroll that thinks so little of human life and property value."   
  "Are you saying that she will be fired?" shouted a reporter from the back.   
  "We are weighing our options at the moment, and we are actively investigating the entire incident. I'm sure you will get an answer to that question with the coming weeks. Until then, I hope this Officer toes the line, because her actions are being watched. That's all I have to say, thank you for your time."   
  The Mayor then turned and walked back up the steps, ignoring a barrage of questions being shouted by the reporters.   
  Bill Hughes stared at the tv for a few seconds more while the reporter wrapped up her story, an angry scowl on his face. He pressed "power" on the remote and turned to look out of his office's window.   
  "It starts." he said to himself. 

  A couple hours later, Dan and Max were at a bar near the 32nd station, Max working on her fourth beer, Dan halfway through his sixth. They were taking turns tossing darts at the dart board, and Maxine's aim was degrading gradually with each beer. Dan was getting pretty buzzed, but was still getting bulls eyes with every toss.   
  "How the hell can you keep hitting the center?" Max asked. Her speech was a little slurred.   
  "It's cause I'm such a good shot." said Dan. "I couldn't miss if I tried." He looked away from the dart board and threw the dart without looking. It buried itself in the center circle. "See what I mean?"   
  "So, do you think the Captain was really happy with me?" she asked him.   
  "Oh, yeah." said Dan. "He'd tell you if he had a problem with you. You always know where you stand with Hughes, cause he gives it to you straight. If you're doing good he says so, but if you've fucked up." He just whistled and shook his head.   
  After leaving the crime scene earlier, they had gone back to the station so Max could get her douffle bag and change into her civvies. The captain had stopped them in the hallway and said, "Do you two know what steer clear of trouble means?"   
  "It was only one city block, sir." said Dan. "We thought you wouldn't mind."   
  The Captain Hughes gave Dan a not-too-happy-look, and then turned to Maxine. "I saw some of the incident on the news. You did good out there."   
  "Thank you, sir." said Maxine. "The girl in the gorilla suit was killed, you know."   
  "I heard." said the chief. "You can't beat yourself up over it, Chalmers. It wasn't intentional, and the thing was trying to kill you at the time. I wouldn't have done a thing differently than you did." He paused for a second and then added, "Except maybe jumping in front of that machine cannon. That wasn't too bright."   
  "Yes, sir. They got pictures of that, sir?" She looked more than a little embarrassed   
  Dan cleared his throat and butted in. "We were on our way out for the day."   
  Hughes looked at his watch and said, "Is it five already? Sure, get out of here. I'll see you guys tomorrow, ok?"   
  Now, hours later, Maxine was finally starting to relax, having realized that she had done an ok job throughout the day. Dan handed her the darts and she prepared to throw them. When ever she got ready to launch one, the dart board would swing lazily to the left or right and she would have to recover fast to keep from falling over. She closed one eye, stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth, and let fly. The dart pinged off of the bar's concrete wall and she broke into giggles. "I think I should stop before someone loses an eye."   
  Dan agreed and they sat down at one of the tables to finish their drinks. Dan tried one of the complimentary pretzels and chewed it with an unhappy expression on his face.   
  "Hey, Wally, you got any pretzels that aren't stale?"   
  "Yeah." replied the bartender. "I save them for the people I like."   
  Dan grasped his side and threw his head back in mock laughter. It was clear that there was no love lost between the two men. "Pecker." Dan muttered under his breath.   
  "Is every day going to be as hectic as today?" she asked   
  "No." said Dan. "There are days where nothing happens. Sometimes I just go park on a high rise, stick the radar detector in the window so it looks like I'm busy, and then I just go to sleep. But when the shit does hit the fan here, it's a big shit and it's a big fan."   
  "When troubles come, they come not in single spies, but in whole battalions."   
  "What? Oh, yeah, same thing. What I'm trying to say is that there's some big bad bastards out there and they don't feel the least bit bad about killing you. When it comes down to them or you, you need to make sure it's them."   
  "I know, but that girl today.. she was just so young..."   
  "Yeah, and stupid, but if she'd had her way you would be a green splat on the street. What do you think she was doing when she dropped that vault on you? She didn't know you were invulnerable. She was meaning to kill you. We were just lucky that it was you that tangled with her, not some cop with no superpowers."   
  "You're right. I just don't have to like the idea that I took a life."   
  "And that's why you're going to be a good cop. The day you're glad you killed a perp is the day you need to quit."   
  "What time you got?" asked Maxine. Her own watch had been a victim of the fight with the gorilla that afternoon.   
  "It's a little after seven." said Dan.   
  "Then I need to get going pretty soon. I don't like to get back to the barracks too late."   
  "You could stay at my place if you want." he said.  It almost seemed like he was blurting the words out, trying to get them said before he could change his mind. His face flushed a deep red, and he avoided looking her in the eyes.   
  Maxine thought about it for a moment and then said, "I don't think so. I think I'll probably have had about enough of you by the end of every work day. Thanks anyway."   
  "all right." he said. "I think I'm going to take off, too. You want to share a taxi?"   
  "No. There's a pay phone back by the bathrooms.  I want to call my dad and let him know that I'm ok. I'll walk home after I get done."   
  "Suit your self." He threw some money on the table to cover the beers and then got up unsteadily from the table. "See you in the morning."   
  "See ya, Dan. Thanks."   
  "For what?"   
  "For getting me through my first day alive. And for talking to me."   
  He waved his hand at her as if to say, "Whatever." and stumbled out the door. 

  "Texas Rangers, Dallas office. This is Daphne, how may I help you?"   
  "Hi, Daphne. It's Maxine."   
  "Oh, hello Maxine. How's Chicago?"   
  "Pretty good. I joined the force this morning."   
  "Well, they would have been fools not to take you. Congrats, Max."   
  "Thanks, Daphne. Do you happen to know if my dad is in?"   
  "No, I'm sorry, but he isn't. He's out on border patrol down by the Rio Grande. Would you like me to try to reach him with a Sat-patch?"   
  "No, that's ok. Can you put me through to his voice mail?"   
  "Sure thing, Maxine. It was good to hear from you. You remember to come home every once in a while, all right?"   
  "I'll do that, Daphne. Thanks."   
  "Hello, you've reached the voice mail for Texas Ranger John Armstrong. Leave a message after the tone." 

* * *

  
_**~Fin-Fan-Fic-Fanatics~**Letters and comments from readers. Do I rock or do I suck? Write me and tell me what you think. If you don't want your comments put in this letters column, or if you want them taken out, please let me know._   
  

_This has to be one of the better fanfics I've read in awhile (and I don't read many, since_   
_a lot of them are pretty bad). This series is quickly growing onto me, it's so vivid. I_   
_really liked all the little inside jokes and all too. (i.e. Wade and Valentino, Twitch Williams'_   
_great, great, grandson...). Very good stuff. Keep it up!_   
_[The Erik Larsen fan page. Comandeered by the Brotherhood of the Fin][3]_   
 [http://members.tripod.com/fantom_dragonfan/index.html][3]   
_Laterz_   
Johnny Bubbles   
Juan Ruvalcaba

--BotF****

**Thank you. Comic writers and artists are going to have thier names popping up in this series a lot. Names are one of the hardest things to think up when I'm writing, so I just keep referring to my Wizard list of writers and artists.**   
  

_Hey! Nice stuff man, Maxine seems like a real cool gal. I'd like to see more artwork of her, Do you write proffessionally? It's_   
_real good!_

_Looking forward to see more Dragon 2200_   
Hilton   
 [Savage Dragon Desktop theme][4]   
 [http://members.xoom.com/hiltonlee/][4]

**No, I don't write professionally. I'd like to, though. I just write this stuff in my spare time. I'm trying to work up a cover for each issue, so there is more artwork on the way. If anyone wants to contribute artwork, I'd be happy to post it for you. Thanks to everyone who wrote in this time. Feedback makes me happy. Here's the stuff I'm reading this month, you might like it, too.**

[Spiderman:IFS][5]

[Superman: DCF][6]

[Superman Beyond][7]   
    
[Sandman: DCFS][8]   
[][8]    
[][8]  

   [1]: ../bcampo@hotmail.com
   [2]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html
   [3]: http://members.tripod.com/fantom_dragonfan/index.html
   [4]: http://members.xoom.com/hiltonlee/
   [5]: http://slayerfanfic.com/mfs/
   [6]: http://www.practicaltech.net/clients/schuyler/superman.html
   [7]: http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Courtyard/7175/beyond.html
   [8]: http://slayerfanfic.com/dcfs/



	5. Default Chapter Title

The Dragon: 2200

# 4

by  [Brian Campo][1]   (bcampo@hotmail.com) 

**This is a work of fan fiction.** The Savage Dragon and all related characters are owned by Erik Larsen, and I do not contest that ownership. This story is in no way official and it should not be taken as such. All characters in this story not owned by Mr. Larsen are owned by me, though I would gladly loan them out if asked nicely. 

**Warning:** This story may contain graphic violence, sexual situations and harsh language. If  you shouldn't be reading it, don't. 

** 11:45 am-** In the middle of North Queseda street, Dan Williams knelt over Maxine Chalmers' still form. His fingertips pressed against her throat, searching for a pulse. As he took his hand away from her throat, it was clear that he was not happy with what he had found.   
  "Shit!" he said as he got to his feet and pulled his radio from his belt. "Dispatch, this is 23, can I get a twenty on that ambulance?"   
  "They're about three minutes away." squawked a woman's voice over the radio.   
  "Shit." Dan said again. He looked up and down the street, seeing if there was anyone coming. He really didn't want to do what he was about to do.. But what choice did he have? "Aw, the hell with it." he said, making up his mind. He pulled his gun out of his gun belt, aimed it at Maxine's chest, and pulled the trigger. He fired once, twice, three times... 

**10:30 am-** The front door to the Police Station was thrown open and Maxine stomped in with a short, fat, bald man in tow. She had a disgusted look on her face, and was holding the man by his collar at arm's length. Dan came in after them swearing as he watched where he stepped.   
  "Jesus Christ, buddy, you're dripping that shit all over the damn floor!"   
  The short man was indeed leaving a trail across the floor. A thick, mucus like material was dripping from beneath his white knee length lab coat. While avoiding one pool of the stuff, Dan accidentally stepped in another. His swearing escalated as he lifted his foot out of the slime and a long strand came with it. The other officers in the room were stopping what they were doing to turn and see the spectacle.   
  Maxine drug the little man up to the front desk by his collar and told the desk sergeant to book him. The sergeant wrinkled his nose in disgust and asked for the man's name.   
  "He says it's Doctor Orifice." said Maxine. "Something tells me that it's not the name his momma gave him."   
  Some of the other cops were gathering around Dan, who was trying to shake some of the slime off of his foot.   
  "What's up with the Freak, Williams?"   
  "Him? He's just plain nasty." Dan said without looking up. "You guys gotta get a look under his jacket. It's the nastiest frickin' thing I've ever seen."   
  The cops looked at each other with eyebrows raised and said, "What is it?"   
  "I don't know. Some kinda mystery orifice. Mouth, butt hole, hell I don't know what it is. All I know is that's not the easiest thing to look away from. We busted him down by Kubert High School for selling Pop Tarts (23rd century cocaine) to the kids down there. Max and I are walking up to him when he suddenly spins around and throws his jacket open. We were so shocked by this massive... thing" Dan spread his hands out, indicating that this "Thing" was about two feet wide. "  in the middle of his stomach that we didn't notice the two .44 magnums he was pulling out from behind him. If Max hadn't pulled her shit together in time and stepped in front of me before the guy opened fire I would have been toast. I was like a damn deer in a headlight. She threw her baton at him and beaned him in the head pretty good. She had the cuffs on him before I could even figure out what had just happened."   
  He turned to look at the little man standing next to Maxine up by the sergeant's desk and sighed. "I'm not even sure if we should try to bust him for public indecency, too. I mean, is it a sex organ of some kind? One thing I am sure of, I'm not doing the cavity search."   
  One of the cops just shook his head and watched Dan scrape the bottom of his shoe on the welcome mat by the Police Station door. "What's with the slime?"   
  "It's coming out of his, uh, _thingy_. He got it all over the back seat of the car, too. I think I'm just going to have to hose that out."   
  "I just don't get it, Williams. Why do you get all of the nasty ones?"   
  "It's not me." said Dan. He pointed over at Maxine. "I think it's her. I think they're drawn to her or something."   
  "I heard that." Max said, as she came back across the room towards them. The desk sergeant was handing Dr. Orifice off to a couple of other officers, telling them to take him in back and book him. No doubt they were trying to think of someone that they could pass him off to.   
  "What about the Yeast Lady?" asked Max. "As I recall, she was all over you, Danny-boy."   
  Dan shuddered in remembrance of the woman they had booked for assault on an officer two weeks back. Looking like a female version of the Pillsbury Doughboy, she was the victim of a sentient, mind controlling, yeast infection that had assimilated her entire body. She had jumped on Dan, engulfing him in her body and screaming, "I got an itch!" over and over again. When the Captain had heard the story, he had insisted that Dan start taking sessions with a police psychiatrist, fearing he might have long term psychological damage because of the incident. Other than an intense fear of baked goods, there didn't seem to be any lasting side effects.   
  "I thought we agreed that we weren't going to talk about that anymore." said Dan.   
  Maxine smiled her sweetest and said, "Do you want to do the report on Dr. Orifice, or do you want to clean out the car?"   
  Dan weighed his options and decided on the car.  A janitor was coming in with a bucket and mop when Dan went out the front doors of the station. The janitor took one look at the floor and began to swear. 

  Half an hour later, Dan came upstairs to where Maxine was working at her desk. The legs of his pants were wet from the hose he had used to clean out the back of the car and his wet shoes were leaving tracks on the floor when he walked..  He was smiling, but the smile quickly vanished when he noticed the vase of brightly colored flowers that was sitting on the edge of her desk.   
  "He sent you some more?" he asked her as he lifted up the edges of the glowers and searched for the card that Maxine had already removed earlier.   
  "Yep. They came in while were out on patrol this morning. Aren't they pretty?" She buried her face in them and inhaled deeply.   
  "I guess. I'm just glad that you're smart enough to fall for these pathetic advances."   
  Maxine chuckled at his expense. "I've got a lunch date with him at noon."   
  "What? With this bozo?" He shoved over her "Out box" and sat down on the corner of her desk.   
  "Chris is a nice guy." said Maxine. "And he can get through lunch without saying something that pisses me off." The police photographer who had done the crime scene photos at the bank robbery three weeks earlier had started calling on Maxine a few days after the incident. The first couple of times it was just to sign the reports for the incident, but he had kept coming back after that just to talk to her. Dan was his usual irritating self when Chris came around, so Maxine had started arranging for them to meet at places where Dan wasn't there. Yesterday, Chris had finally gotten the courage to ask her out for a date. It was only a lunch date, but it was a start. She had actually put off telling Dan, giving him less time to irritate her.   
  "I've made it through lunch without making you mad." Dan protested.   
  "Since I've met you, you haven't had a five minute stretch where you didn't say something that irritated me."   
  "Really?" He had a "Can't be!" look on his face.   
  She nodded in reply. "It's ok,  I know it's not your fault. You can't help yourself. You should just get used to the idea that I might have lunch with somebody else on some days."   
  "Wow." said Dan. "I didn't realize I was irritating. Do other people think the same thing?"   
  "I'm afraid so. Your mom does, too."   
  Dan stared at her for a few seconds, trying to read her face and see if she was lying. "Yeah, right!" he said finally with a laugh.   
  Maxine knew that the conversation had gone a little too easily. He proved her right when twenty minutes had passed and they were once again crossing town in their patrol car.   
  "He's probably a psycho." he told her.   
  "Who?"   
  "You boyfriend. The photographer. He looks like a loony to me."   
  "He's not my boyfriend. We're just going to lunch. And what's so loony looking about him?" She knew he was just trying to get her goat, but was willing to play his game for a little while.   
  "Oh, please, like that nice guy role isn't the oldest trick in the book. With his little reading glasses and dress jackets and neatly combed hair. I'm telling you he's got mystery packages in his freezer."   
  "Ok, you lost me there." she told him. "What mystery packages?"   
  "Little ziplock baggies of his neighborhood kids, that's what I'm saying. He looks like Geoffrey Dahmer."   
  Maxine threw back her head and laughed. "Jesus, he's a psycho because he dresses nice?"   
  "No, because he dresses a little _too_ nice."   
  "Well, with the way you eat, I'd vote for you to be most likely to have mystery packages in the fridge."   
  "Laugh if you will," said Dan. "But it's always the guy that you least suspect."   
  "Then I guess I don't have to worry about you, huh?"   
  Dan "harumph"ed at that and went tight lipped. Maxine knew that he would only be able to maintain that kind of silence for a few minutes.   
  "Look at this asshole." Dan said a few minutes later. He pointed out the passenger side window at a delivery truck that was streaking east across town. "What's he got that muffler held on with? Speaker wire?"   
  Maxine turned on the siren and turned the car to follow the truck. The truck was white and had a paint companies name on the side of it's cargo hold. The muffler that Dan had seen was hanging at a dangerous angle from the bottom of the truck, and was swaying back and forth like there wasn't much holding it on. She maneuvered their car in and around  the other cars until she was right behind the truck. She gave the driver plenty of time to see her, but if he had, he was ignoring her. He continued flying the way he was heading without paying her lights or sirens any mind.   
  Dan flicked the radio on to loud speaker and said, "Ok, buddy. Chicago PD. Take the truck down to ground level and park it."   
  The truck continued for another hundred feet, and then it started signaling that it was going down. Dan switched back to radio and called in the plates to central. They came back as clear and Dan hung up the mike. The truck dropped to the street below and shut off it's hover engines. Maxine parked their car right behind the truck and they threw open their doors. Dan walked up the side of the truck to talk to the driver while Maxine hung back and covered his back.   
  Dan asked the man for his license and registration and the driver asked what the problem was. The man kept looking in the rear view mirror at Maxine, and when he saw her looking back at him he looked away nervously. Was it because of her green skin and fin or was he hiding something? Something was definitely making him nervous, though she couldn't tell what.. Maybe he was just cop shy. Dan told the man about his muffler when he handed over his license and paperwork.   
  "I had no idea, sir." said the man.   
  "I don't doubt it, Mr. Heston." Dan told him. "But, you can't be flying around town with it hanging like that. If it comes loose it's likely to kill somebody."   
  "Are you going to ticket me?" The man glanced back at Maxine once again. Shifty eyes, she thought. Was this that cop instinct they always talked about? Or was she making a big deal out of nothing?   
  "I'm going to give you a warning, which will disappear as soon as you get the muffler fixed. I am grounding you for now.  I'm calling in your plates, so if you leave the ground, you're going to have about five cop cars all over you, and you will get a fine.  understand?"   
  "Yes, sir." the driver said. He didn't look happy about the grounding, but he was behaving himself. Maxine had seen people come out of their cars swinging when an officer grounded them.   
  Dan used stepped back a couple of feet from the truck and called in the license and registration over his hand held radio. Like the plates, they came back clear. Dan gave the man his things back and told him to get the muffler fixed. The man told him he would, and started up the truck. Maxine started back toward the car and as she passed the back of the car, she heard something strange. A sound like a small child crying was coming from the back of the truck. She stopped and leaned in close to hear better. It was a child crying, or rather, children crying. She could hear multiple voices in the truck's cargo hold.  She quickly stepped back out to the side of the truck and yelled to Dan, "Stop him!"   
  The driver dropped the truck into drive and it started  to lurch forward. Dan held out his hand and told him to hold it right there. The driver ignored him, and pressed down on the gas. Dan jumped forward and stepped up onto the trucks running boards, drawing his gun at the same time. He shoved the gun in the man's face and said, 'I said STOP!"   
  The driver took one look down the Faustin's inch and a quarter wide barrel, and he dropped the truck into park.   
  "Out of the truck!" Dan told him as he stepped back down onto the road and backed up. His gun never wavered from the driver's head. "What do you got, Max?"   
  "Kids." she replied. "I can hear kids in the back of his truck."   
  "What have you got in the back?" Dan asked the driver.   
  "Paint." the man said. The man threw open his door and stepped out onto the street. He held his hands out to the side, and Dan indicated with a wave of his gun that he should raise them higher in the air.   
  "How about you open it up so we can have a look see?"   
  "You got a warrant?" the man said. All the friendliness he had shown earlier was gone now.   
  "Hell with that." said Maxine. "Paint cans don't cry like children. I call it probable cause."   
  "Fuckin' A, Max. Walk to the back, buddy."   
  The man walked to the back of the truck while Dan followed him with his gun between them. Max grabbed the padlock on the trucks back door and gave it a gentle squeeze. It cracked into pieces in her grasp, which she let fall to the ground. She threw the doors open, revealing twenty or so four and five year old kids sitting on benches. They were dirty and unkempt, wearing filthy rags for clothing. Chains ran back and forth across the truck's bed, connecting the shackles that were around the kid's feet. They were blinking at the bright light coming in the back of the truck as if they were unaccustomed to it.   
  "Turn around." Dan told the driver. "Spread your legs. Put your hands flat on the hood of my car."   
  "Look, man. This isn't even my truck. I was just asked to drive this truck today."   
  "You have the right to remain silent." Maxine said. She turned and grabbed the driver by the arm. She  spun him back toward the police cruiser and slammed him face down onto the hood. Her jaw was set and her scowl said that she was very angry. So angry that Dan cringed when she handled the perp, afraid that she might break his arm or something. How much control did she have over her strength when she was angry? he wondered. "Any thing you say can and will be held against you in a court of law." She kicked both of his feet, separating them. "You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be provided for you." She grabbed one of his hands, jerked it back behind his back and slid a cuff on him. "Do you understand these rights as I have told them to you?" She grabbed his other hand and pulled it back to meet the other one.   
  The engine of the cop car, which had been left running, suddenly sputtered and died. The flashing lights on top dimmed and went out.   
  "What the hell?" Dan started to say. He got halfway through the word "the" when Maxine suddenly stood up straight as a board and gasped. A second later, she flew backwards away from the suspect and smashed into one corner of the truck. The truck shuddered with the impact and jumped forward a couple of feet. The children in the truck began shrieking and jumping up and down. When Dan looked back toward the perp a second later, he was disappearing around the far side of the truck. Dan raced up his side of the truck with his gun ready. When he reached the driver's side window, he could see through to the other side, and saw the man running into an alley. Dan moved forward another couple of feet and began firing over the hood and down the alley. The  man was already going behind some dumpsters and Dan knew he had no chance of hitting him.   
  "Max!" he yelled back to the front of the truck. "Call for some backup! He's headed over toward Janson Avenue."   
  There was no reply. He ran back to the back of the truck where he found Maxine still laying where she had fallen. Her eyes were open and staring blankly forward.   
  "Aw, shit." was all he could think to say. Not another one. He dropped down to one knee and pressed his fingers against her throat, feeling for a pulse. Nothing. He grabbed her under the arms and drug her out into middle of the street. She was heavy, heavier than he would have expected with her size. Probably her dense muscle structure, he figured. He stretched her out flat on the road and tilted her head back, preparing for CPR. Wait, he told himself. Call for help first. He grabbed his radio and began shouting, "Officer down!" into it repeatedly. Dispatch acknowledged and asked him where he was. He gave them the address and told them he had to put down the radio to start CPR. He hung up the radio and put his mouth over Maxine's and breathed hard. He found that it was like trying to inflate a ceramic jug. None of the air went in. He blew harder, but only came up with the same results. He checked her airway, made sure he had her head tilted right, and tried again. No good. It's her muscles, he realized. They were so strong that he couldn't force her lungs to expand to let air in. Giving up on Artificial Respiration, he moved to her chest and crossed his fingers over her sternum. He dropped weight on her, but it did nothing. He might as well have been doing compressions on the pavement below her. It was the same deal, rock hard muscles, and now an impervious ribcage that refused to move under his meager weight. He dropped back onto his heels and pounded Maxine's chest with the bottom of his fist.   
  "Come on, Goddamnit! Don't do this to me, Max!" He was hitting her with everything he had and it wasn't doing anything to her. On the other hand, he thought he might be breaking his hand. He was running out of options. He reached up and pressed his fingertips against her throat, searching for a pulse. As he took his hand away from her throat, it was clear that he was not happy with what he had found.   
  "Shit!" he said as he got to his feet and pulled his radio from his belt. "Dispatch, this is 23, can I get a twenty on that ambulance?"   
  "They're about three minutes away." squawked a woman's voice over the radio.   
  "Shit." Dan said again. He looked up and down the street, seeing if there was anyone coming, anyone who could help him. Except for him and the truckload of kids, the street was empty. He really didn't want to do what he was about to do.. But what choice did he have? "Aw, the hell with it." he said, making up his mind. He pulled his gun out of his gun belt, aimed it at Maxine's chest, and pulled the trigger. He fired once, twice, three times. Her body convulsed under the impact of the bullets, and he thought he might actually be making her chest compress. He counted off the seconds, one alligator, BANG! Two Alligator, BANG!. He emptied the clip on her and quickly loaded another. On the fourth shot from his second clip, she gasped and arched her back. She inhaled deeply and opened her eyes. A look of terror crossed her face, and he realized he was standing over her with a gun pointed at her. He holstered the gun and dropped to the ground beside her.   
  "Are you ok, Max?" he asked as he helped her sit up. He could hear an ambulance coming, and he was never so glad in all his life to hear a siren. "You're going to be fine." he told her. "Help is coming."   
  "What happened?" she wheezed out between breaths.   
  "The guy we were arresting did something to you. Whatever it was, it stopped your heart. Jesus, girl, you scared the shit out of me."   
  "Did you get him?" she asked.   
  "No. I chased him a little ways, but came back when you didn't answer me. Man, am I glad, you're ok. I thought I was going to have to explain to the Captain how I lost another partner."   
  "Help me up." she told him.   
  "I don't think that's such a good idea. Let's just sit here until the ambulance gets here."   
  "No." she said. "We have to go get him. Can't let him get away." Her head rolled to the side and came to rest against Dan's chest. She had passed out.   
  "We'll get him another day." he whispered to her, and laid a kiss on her forehead, right in front of her fin. The weeping of scared children drifted from out of the back of the truck.   
  Across the street, atop a six story building, a figure mounted on horse back surveyed the scene below with hollow eyes. It's hand stroked the handle of  a civil war era military saber absent-mindedly. It watched a moment more, and then pressed it's knee into the horse's right shoulder. The horse turned in that direction, and they crossed the roof and disappeared. 

  **1:35 pm** She was sitting up in her hospital bed and awake when Chris Anderson walked into her room. His face lit up as soon as he saw her.   
  "You know," he said. "if you didn't want to go on a date with me, you could have said you had to wash your hair or something."   
  She smiled and said, "I don't have any hair. I was running out of time to think up an excuse and couldn't come up with anything else."   
  Dan got up from the chair had been sitting in the corner and excused himself. He claimed he had seen cinnamon rolls in the cafeteria earlier and was going to go get himself a dozen. Apparently his phobia of baked goods was on the way to being conquered.   
  Chris sat down on the edge of the bed and laid his jacket across his lap. "So, you're really ok?"   
  "Yes." said Maxine." They just want to hold me for a couple of hours for observation. There was no nerve or tissue damage, and Dan's bullets didn't do me any real harm. The doctors say I should be fine."   
  "That's great. When Dan called me earlier, he said you didn't look so hot."   
  "I heal quick. I'm feeling fine now."   
  "Can I ask you a personal question?"   
  Maxine hesitated but said, "Shoot."   
  "I'm sorry, but I have to know. What's with your feet?"   
  She looked down the length of the bed at what he was pointing at and laughed. Her strange two-toed feet were clearly outlined under the thin sheet. "You haven't seen my toes yet, have you?" She pulled the sheet up far enough so that he could get a good look at them.   
  "Wow." he said. "Those are something."   
  "Those are my Teen Age Mutant Ninja Turtle feet. Just one more thing I have in common with the Dragon. I think that they're kind of cute."   
  "They are." said Chris. "They're just going to take some getting used to. Any other strangely shaped body parts I should know about?"   
  "Other than the inconspicuous fin on top of my otherwise bald head? You will just have to wait and find out for yourself."   
  His face turned red and he quickly changed the subject. "Do you think we can set up another lunch date? Unless you're going to try to kill yourself again, that is."   
  "Well," She said. "I'm always really hungry after a near death experience, Maybe we could go get some pizza after the doctors release me this afternoon."   
  "I would like that." said Chris.   
  "You have to promise not to laugh if I make a pig of myself. Invulnerable muscle has a price, and that price is a big appetite. I've been known to put away a whole pizza all on my own."   
   "I understand. I promise I won't laugh."  he said with a smile. After a moment, his smile faded and his expression got very serious. He was trying to find the best way to say something, and  Maxine thought she knew what he was trying to say. "Maxine, You scared me." he said finally. " I just wanted to tell you that...I was very scared when I heard what happened to you. I care for you, and I don't know what I would do if..."   
  She grabbed his hand and shushed him with her other. "Chris. Thank you. I am ok, all right? I'm ok."   
  He nodded and continued to hold her hand while they sat in silence. He was a good man, she told herself, no matter what that dumbass Dan Williams said. 

  **Elsewhere-**Up in the highest levels of the atmosphere a satellite orbited the earth. The satellite was not of earth origin, and was not used by any entity on earth. The governments of earth were unaware of it's existence, or the fact that it was listening to every radio, television, and communication signal bounced off of their satellites. The satellite monitored any and all electronic broadcasts sent into the air on the planet earth. It was programmed to scan the broadcasts, searching for certain words in every language used on the planet. One of the keywords it scanned for in the english broadcasts was "Dragon'. There had been a lot of use of this word over the last few weeks in the vicinity of the city of Chicago. So much so that the satellite was compelled to send a high speed transmission into deep space to another satellite, which then relayed the message deeper into space to another satellite. Eventually, this message was relayed all the way to a horseshoe shaped craft cruising through space 14 billion miles from earth. The signal started  a computer system that alerted the craft's pilot that there was activity involving 'dragons" on the planet Earth.   
  The Angelican was not pleased. It had ridden that planet of it's dragon problems before, but apparently the creatures had somehow made a reappearance. It turned it's craft toward earth, and engaged it's warp drives.   
  

_**~Fin-Fan-Fic-Fanatics~**Letters and comments from readers. Do I rock or do I suck? Write me and tell me what you think. If you don't want your comments put in this letters column, or if you want them taken out, please let me know._

**  Not a lot of response to last issue. Hilton Lee said that I was doing good and Draycor over at fanfiction.net said that the series was, "Not Bad" which I take to be good since he gave me eight out of ten on the rating. Since I don't have any letters you will just have to listen to my list of stuff I'm digging this time around.**

**  Fight Club- I read this book earlier this month. It was a good read, and has a very weird twist ending on it. Can't say that you really like it, it's a little too strange to be likable. Well worth reading. Can't wait to see the movie**

**  The Long Goodbye by Raymond Chandler- Good old fashioned detective story by one of the masters. The story looses it's punch a little because all of the elements have been redone to death in other books and movies. If you liked L.A. Confidential, you'll like this.**

**  Nothing Lasts Forever by Roderick Thorp- This is the book that the movie "Die Hard" was based on. It's different in ways, and in some ways it's better. Funny bit of trivia. This book is actually a sequel to another book called "The Detective" "The Detective" was also made into a movie starring Frank Sinatra as the main character. So, "Die Hard" is actually a sequel to an old Sinatra movie. Can you imagine Sinatra saying, "Yippeekiyay-@!$#%-$%!@$"?**

**Some cool fan fiction which you might enjoy:**

[Angela's Story][2]   
**( ** [http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/angela.html][2]  )   
**It's high adventure as ex-angel, and free-lance monster hunter, Angela, is lured into a deadly trap.  90k**

[Batman: DCFS][3]   
**( ** [http://slayerfanfic.com/dcfs/][3]  )   
**Great series that just started by Alex Peyton. It reminds me a lot of the early days of Shadowhawk, when you didn't know who the hero was.**

[Spiderman:MFS][4]   
(  [http://slayerfanfic.com/mfs/][4]  )   
    
[Superman: DCF][5]   
(  [http://www.practicaltech.net/clients/schuyler/superman.html][5]  ) 

[Superman Beyond][6]   
(  [http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Courtyard/7175/beyond.html][6]  ) 

[Sandman: DCFS][3]   
(  [http://slayerfanfic.com/dcfs/][3]  ) 

   [1]: ../bcampo@hotmail.com
   [2]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/angela.html
   [3]: http://slayerfanfic.com/dcfs/
   [4]: http://slayerfanfic.com/mfs/
   [5]: http://www.practicaltech.net/clients/schuyler/superman.html
   [6]: http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Courtyard/7175/beyond.html



	6. Default Chapter Title

The Dragon: 2200

# 5

by [Brian Campo][1] (bcampo@hotmail.com) 

**This is a work of fan fiction.** The Savage Dragon and all related characters are owned by Erik Larsen, and I do not contest   
that ownership. This story is in no way official and it should not be taken as such. All characters in this story not owned by Mr.   
Larsen are owned by me, though I would gladly loan them out if asked nicely. 

**Warning:** This story may contain graphic violence, sexual situations and harsh language. If you shouldn't be reading it, don't. 

Vist the Dragon 2200 homepage for back issues and covers (http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html) 

**South Chicago- **The man in the the little booth looked like he might need a clean pair of shorts when the six patrol cars skidded up to the gate with their lights flashing. He was the security guard for "Abandoned Warehouses `R' US", a storage rental that attracted a lot of less than legal businesses. Some would say that it even catered to them. Most of the the time, his job didn't really require him to keep his eye out for trouble, instead it was preferred that he looked the other way if trouble showed up. If the law came around, it was his job to make it look like everything was peachy, keen, and well within legal boundaries. Putting on his best innocent look, he stepped out of the booth and walked toward the cop cars.   
He watched while one of the cops got out of their car and walked toward him with a piece of paper extended in front of them. He took in the young woman's green skin and fish like fin, and realized that he was looking at the "Dragon" cop that the media had been making such a big deal about. She didn't look as big in person as she did on the HV (holovid). He'd lived in Chicago too long to let something like that fool him, though. When it came to Freaks, they did have to be very big to be able to cause a lot of damage.   
"I'm Officer Chalmers. This is a warrant authorizing us to search the storage facility for the Spackler Paint Company." said the cop.   
"Hmmm." he said, scratching the graying stubble on his chin. "That doesn't ring a bell. I don't think we have anybody named Spackler here."   
"Warehouse number fourteen." she told him. "Take us there before I start using words like "aiding", "abetting", and "ten to twenty"." Maxine's smile was sweet with just a trace of cockiness. Inside, she was ready to start snapping necks. They had spent the morning serving warrants and tracking down the truck driver that they had pulled over the day before yesterday. The 32nd's jail cells were filling up from the people they had arrested, but they hadn't seen hide nor hair of the man who had tried to kill Maxine. It was hot, running upwards of ninety degrees, and Maxine was sick of being out in the heat. Her reservoirs of niceness were running low.   
"Oh." said the guard, slapping himself in the forehead. "Sure, Spackler. Got ya. Let me get my car and you guys can follow me in." He went back into the booth and grabbed his keys from his desk. He glanced towards the door, made sure that none of the cops were watching, and then reached over to a panel on the wall. It was covered with numbered buttons counting from one to forty. He pressed in the one marked number fourteen and it began to blink on and off.. That would start an alarm over at the Spackler warehouse, and hopefully give them time to get anything hidden that they would rather the cops not see. He figured he could lead the cops for a little parade around the warehouses and maybe buy them a couple more minutes. He stepped back out of the booth and waved to the cops before going to his car.   
"He's already warned them, you know." said Dan from the driver's seat as he watched the guard get in his car.   
Maxine nodded. There wasn't anything that they could do. The warehouses covered about seven square miles and there was no way they could find the one they wanted unless the guard lead them to it. Ten minutes later, after taking the longest possible route, they arrived outside the warehouse they were after. Maxine and Dan parked out in front of the warehouse while the other cops sped away to surround the building. When the other officers radioed that they were in position, Max walked up to the warehouse's front door and pounded on it with the heel of her hand. She waited for ten seconds for an answer, and then she knocked again. There was still no answer. She looked at Dan, who nodded. Max raised her foot and kicked the door in. The steel door tore off of it's hinges and skidded off across the cement floor inside. The floor was covered with half dry brown paint, and the door left a wide trail in it as it slid. Dan and Max were through the door a second later with guns drawn and sweeping for target's.   
That was when the odor hit them. Dan made a "gahwk!" sound and threw his arm in front of his nose and mouth, trying to block the smell. Max could feel herself getting a little greener around the gills*. The unmistakable scent of rotting flesh filled the whole building. They realized then that it wasn't brown paint that was covering the floor. What they were standing in was blood, thick and rank. It had coagulated in the heat and had the look and consistency of thin chocolate pudding. There were bodies everywhere, all of them men, all of them missing their heads. Guns littered the floor, as well as spent shells. The walls were pock marked with bullet holes. Someone very unfriendly had beaten them there. (*no, Max doesn't have gills. It's an expression)   
Doors at the opposite end of the building were thrown open, and the other officers ran inside. One of them slipped in the blood and ended up on his ass in it. He scurried to his feet, swiping at the stuff covering his back, but only succeeding in spreading it.   
"I'll call this in." Max told Dan. He nodded back at her, too amazed by the scene in front of him to form a verbal response.   
Max turned and walked back to the door, pulling out her radio as she went. Once she was clear of the smell, she called in and told the captain what they had found. The captain was not happy. He told her to secure the scene and that he would be down there with the coroners office and some detectives in twenty minutes. She acknowledged and went to retrieve some parameter tape from the trunk of their car.   
Dan came out of the building and took a nice deep breath of fresh air. When he saw Maxine getting out the tape, he helped her string it out. They walked around the building, cordoning off a fifty foot wide parameter.   
"You think he was in there?" she asked him.   
"I don't know." said Dan. "There's going to have to be a lot of matching up pieces before they can ID any of those guys."   
"Have any idea who might have done this?"   
"I'm not sure." Dan told her. "I've heard stories. Ghost stories mostly. Criminals being slaughtered by some ghoul. Having all their heads lopped off. Whoever it was, they left us a message. It's smeared in blood across the back wall. It's says, `I was not afraid.'"   
"Well, that makes one of us." said Maxine. 

It was less than twenty minutes before the captain and his team of investigators showed up. When they did, Maxine and Dan were told that they could leave, which they were more than happy to do. The day was getting hotter, and the stench of the crime scene was growing worse. They climbed in their car and headed away from it as fast as they could. For once, Dan wasn't suggesting that they go grab a bite to eat.   
They headed back to the station. The warehouse had been their last lead in hunting down Paul Heston, the man who had tried to electrocute Maxine to death. Until they found out if he was amongst the dead, there was no point in continuing the search for him. Besides, it wasn't every day that you walked into a room filled with that kind of carnage. Maxine didn't mind admitting that she was a little shaken up by the situation. Who or what could have killed all of those men?   
Dan and Max's investigation of the Spackler Paint company over the last two days had revealed that it was a cover for a group trafficking children to other countries for child prostitution. Had a deal gone bad? There was no way to tell until the detectives and medical examiners started putting together the pieces of what had happened in that warehouse.   
At the station, Maxine stopped by the front desk to see if she'd had any messages come in for her while she was out.   
"Yeah." said the desk sergeant. "You got a call from Janet Williams." He flipped through his message pad until he found the message, and then tore out a copy. "Here's her number."   
"Hey, yeah." said Dan, suddenly remembering. "My mom said to ask you to call her."   
"Nice of you to remember." Maxine told him as she took the slip of paper from the desk sergeant and thanked him. "Did she say what it was about?"   
"Nope. I asked her but she told me that it wasn't any of my business. How do like that, huh? It's my mom, and my partner, but it's none of my business. I'm starting to think you two are plotting against me."   
"You're just now starting to think that?" She started up the stairs to her desk.   
"It's just seems like you are always snickering at me behind my back."   
"That's not true. We snicker at you in front of you." She talked to Janet once or twice a week on the phone, and despite Dan's paranoia, it wasn't about him. She had even dropped by her house a couple of times to visit. Despite the differences in their age, she found that Janet was a fun woman to be around. She treated Max just like she would anyone else, not as a Freak, but as a friend. Max liked that.   
Max went to her desk, picked up her phone and dialed up Janet's number. Dan was trying to hang close, but Max told him to beat it.   
"William's residence, this is Janet speaking."   
"Hi Janet, this is Maxine. I go a message that you had called."   
"Hello, Maxine. Did the little shit forget to tell you?"   
"I'm afraid so." said Maxine. "You know him. If it's not food related he can't keep his mind on it."   
"This much is true." laughed Janet. "Well, there is something I wanted to talk to you about. Dan says that you still haven't been able to find a place to stay."   
"No, ma'am, I haven't. You were right, people in this city really don't want to rent to a freak, especially one looking like I do." Max had called about apartment after apartment, but the landlords either refused to rent to her or quoted her an astronomical rental price.   
"I wish it wasn't like that." Janet told her. "I have been thinking, though. Would you want to rent a bedroom from me? Since Jim died and all the kids left home I got more room then I know what to do with and I sure could use some extra cash coming in."   
"Really?" said Max. "How much are you wanting?"   
"How about four hundred a month and you pitch in on groceries and upkeep?"   
Maxine's face broke out into a grin. "I think I could handle that." Most rooms went for twice that.   
"Then it's a deal. Tell Dan to drive you here after work, and then we'll go get your things from the barracks. How does that sound?"   
"It sounds great, Janet. Thank you. I was starting to think I was going to have to live on the street."   
"You're welcome, Maxine. I'll see you tonight."   
Maxine said her good-byes and hung up with a smile on her face. She felt like a twenty ton weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. Dan, who had been hovering by the coffee machine on the other side of the room, saw her hang up the phone and quickly crossed over to her.   
"Well?" he inquired.   
"Well, what?" she said. He was so nosy that she loved to toy with him when she knew something that he didn't   
"What did she want?"   
"She told me that she would rent me a room."   
"Really? That's cool. If it's my old room I can tell you where I hid a really good, slightly used porn collection."   
"Please." said Maxine. She held up her hands, palms out. "This is not imagery that I want to introduce into my brain." 

Paul Heston shuffled through Chicago's Ellis International Airport, avoiding eye contact with anybody and everybody. He looked at his reflection in a window as he passed it, and he couldn't help but smile. Any cops looking for him would be hard pressed to recognize him as the man who had to tried to kill the Freak cop. He had given himself a little makeover that morning in his motel room by shaving off his beard and dying his reddish blonde hair to a dark brown color. He had bought himself a cheap suit, a pair of cosmetic eyeglasses and a gray fedora to compliment this disguise, making himself look just a little respectable. "I look like a vacuum salesman." he thought to himself with a sly grin. If he had ran into himself on the street, looking like he did, he would have thought "chump" but not "cop killer". Hopefully any cops that saw him would think the same thing.   
The cops were only half the problem, though, and that thought was what made the smile disappear from his face. Paul stared at himself in the window and wondered how far his disguise would get him with the thing that had shown up at warehouse # 14 the day before. A shiver ran down his spine when thought of those hollow eyes with the red hot flames inside, and the way that the thing had looked right at him. Right through him. Something in his gut told him that the best disguise in the world wouldn't fool that monster.   
There was only one thing he could do for that situation, he thought, and that was exactly what he was doing. He was putting as much distance between him and the monster as possible, and hoping that it wouldn't follow him. In less than ten minutes he would be catching a plane headed south of the border into Texas. Hopefully that would be far enough to escape both the cops and... it.   
Paul turned and continued on the way to the terminal, trying not to let his worry show on his face. "Think happy innocent thoughts." he told himself. "Try not to look like a killer of cops and a trafficker of children. Once you are on that plane and it's in the air, you're home free."   
At the terminal, a stewardess accepted his tickets and told him to have a nice flight. He managed a smile for her, though he didn't think it looked too authentic. He made his way onto the plane and found his window seat near the back of coach section.   
As the time for take off grew nearer, the seats around him began to fill up with other travelers. He ended up being surrounded by a large family who was headed to Texas for a vacation. An eight year old boy and a five year old girl were seated next to him and were given hand held video games to keep them occupied. He watched them for a few seconds, and without even realizing he was doing it, he began to estimate what he could have gotten for them on the asian market. It was a natural thing for him to do, to look at a child and size up their monetary worth the same way other people would do for cars, or antiques, or animals. He figured 14,000 for the boy, maybe as high as 20,000 for the girl.   
He glanced up from the kids and noticed that an older woman sitting in the aisle across from him was watching him. Paul quickly turned and stared out of his window. That could have just as easily been one of the kid's parents, and he didn't think they would appreciate him staring at their children. He had to be more careful, now. One suspicious person is all it would take to get him questioned by a cop.   
Twenty minutes later, the plane began to pull away from the loading zone and out onto the runway. He felt the tension in his shoulders start to drain away. Just a few more minutes and they would be in the air.   
The plane's engines started to wind up and he could see heat exhaust expelling out of them from his window. A stewardess was making her way up and down the aisles making sure that every one had their seat belt on and was ready for take off. The plane lurched and then it headed down the runway. Paul leaned back in his chair, folded his hands in his lap, and closed his eyes. There was a momentary touch of nausea when the jumbo jet took to the air, but that was gone a second later. A contented smile appeared on Paul's face.   
His good mood lasted all of twenty seconds.   
There was a gasp of fright towards the front of the cabin and someone screamed. Paul's eyes snapped open and the smile disappeared from his face. Everyone in the cabin was staring towards the center of the aisle where something was causing a disturbance in the air. There was a weak glow, and a spinning, shifting light that was reminiscent of the aurora borealis. A shape began to take form in the midst of the light. It grew, became more defined, solidified. It was starting to look more and more like a man on horseback.   
Paul realized he was biting his lower lip so hard that blood was running down his chin. He had a death grip on the arm rests of his chair, and his knuckles were a bright white. It was here. The thing from the warehouse. Somehow it had gotten onto the plane. And that meant that it knew he was here.   
The thing had to lean forward to fit inside the the cabin's low ceiling. It appeared to be a civil war officer, complete with revolver, saber, and uniform. He was bearded, and there was a distinct scar on each side of his face. Someone had branded a "C" on both cheeks. The thing's most noticeable feature, however, was it's eyes. Or it's lack thereof. It's eyes were black voids receding back into it's skull.   
A stewardess stepped through the curtain that separated coach from first class. When she saw the apparition, she shrieked and threw herself back against a wall. The ghost turned it's head to look at her for a moment, and then it turned back toward the passengers. It had no eyes, but there was no doubt that it was looking them over. It was looking for Paul. It's gaze wandered up and down the rows of people, searching their faces. It was getting closer to Paul. He had his feet braced against the base of the seat in front of him, and his legs were so tensed that they hurt. It's eyes wandered past him, and he almost exhaled a sigh of relief. It's search stopped two rows ahead of him, and then it came back in his direction. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as it's gaze locked with his. Fire blossomed back within it's hollow eye sockets and belched out into the air. It knew.   
It's hand reached down and grabbed the hilt of it's saber. It yanked it from it's sheath with a flourish, revealing the sword's broken blade. The sword had been broken half way down it's length but there was still more than enough of it left to make it deadly. It extended it's arm and pointed the jagged end of the sword right at Paul.   
"Paul Heston!" It's voice sounded strange, like a scream played in reverse. It sounded like the words were being sucked in rather than spoken out. " I see you, and I see you for what you are! Know that I am not afraid of you!"   
It stuck it's knees into it's horse's sides and started down the aisle towards him. Paul shoved with his legs, pushing himself up the back of his seat and over into the laps of the people sitting behind him. He turned, got his foot up on a footrest, and then launched himself back onto the next row. The passengers were screaming now, both at Paul and at the apparition that was advancing up the aisle. The ghost's horse was picking up speed now and the specter was holding it's sword back, ready to strike. Realizing that he was going much too slow to get away, Paul turned back toward his attacker. It filled his vision and he shrank back away from it. The sword arm stretched back, preparing for a slice that would take off Paul's head. Paul screamed and threw his hands up in front of him.   
"If you look out your right side passenger window," the pilot's voice blurted from the intercom. "you will notice that we are leaving the city of Chicago. We will be landing in Dallas, Texas in a little over an hour and a half. Enjoy your flight and thank you for choosing Bendis Air."   
The ghost swung it's sword, and Paul closed his eyes at the last instant. He could hear the wind being split by the blade as it streaked toward his neck. A mixture of memories and unfulfilled dreams flashed before his eyes as his body cringed in anticipation of the inevitable deathblow.   
The blow never came.   
He opened his eyes in time to see the last remnants of the specter fading away in the air. Wide eyed and with bated breath, he stared at the place where he had last seen the ghost. There was nothing there, no lights, no glowing, the thing had simply disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.   
"Hey, buddy. You mind?" he heard somebody close by say. Paul became aware of the fact that he was sitting in the lap of another man. In his flight from the ghost, he hadn't paid attention to where he had landed. He apologized and pushed himself to his feet.   
The stewardess who had walked in earlier got up from where she had been cringing and quickly walked toward the front of the plane.   
Everyone in coach was looking at him. It was very clear that the ghost had been there to get Paul, and they were all wondering why. "I see you for what you are." the ghost has said to him. They were all wondering just what it was that Paul was. He excused himself with a mumble and stepped out into the aisle. Their eyes followed his every move.   
"I, um," He stumbled for words. "I gotta go to the bathroom." Paul headed back toward the back of the cabin, to the bathroom. He stepped into the little cubicle and turned the little dial to "occupied" before collapsing onto the toilet with a shudder. His legs were shivering uncontrollably, and it felt like he couldn't get a deep enough breath into his lungs. There was no doubt about it, he was experiencing the after effects of sheer terror. Effects so strong that they were bordering on shock. Paul remained in the bathroom for several more minutes, trying to get himself under control.   
The pilot's voice crackled over the plane's intercom, "This is your Captain speaking. Due to an unforeseen emergency that might endanger the passengers of this plane, it has been decided that we will turn back and land in Chicago."   
Paul's head snapped up, a look of horror on his face. "Oh, no." he said. "Oh, no, you're not. No way in hell are we going back there."   
He reached out his arms and touched the bathroom's metal walls. The light bulb above his head began to dim. 

Maxine and Dan were headed out at the end of the day when they were stopped by the sound of someone calling their names. They turned to see Brad Turner, one of the guys that worked in evidence and the lab, running toward them waving his arms in the air.   
"Williams, Chalmers, hold up! I got something to show you." When he got to them he was breathing heavily, as he had run up the stairs in an effort to catch them before they left. Still panting, he held up two plastic baggies. He shook the one on his left. "These are the pills from the Biggs case. You know, where you wrestled the giant Pomeranian?" He shook the baggy on his right. "These are from the Orifice case. The Freak drug peddler you brought in the day before yesterday."   
Maxine took a close look at the pills and smiled. They were identical. "Can I kiss you, Brad?"   
"Me first." said Dan. He pursed his lips and took a step in Brad's direction, making the lab tech take a couple of steps back.   
"It was nothing." said Brad, keeping one eye on Dan. "We were going through his stash of pills and these were stumping everybody. No one had seen them before. They looked familiar to me, though. I wracked my brain, and then I remembered the pills Dan had brought me from the Biggs case. And there you have it."   
"Come on, Max." said Dan. "Let's go see if the good Doctor wants to talk to us."   
"Go book 'em, Danno." said Turner. He didn't get to stand in the spotlight very often, and you could tell that this was a rare thrill for him.   
Several minutes later, the desk sergeant down in Holding was telling them that Dr. Orifice was gone. He was being transported over to county with a truckload of other criminal Freaks. The county jail had better security and was designed for holding prisoners with superpowers.   
"You missed him by about twenty minutes." the sergeant told them.   
"I feel like pulling a little overtime." said Max.   
"Works for me." said Dan. They headed out to their patrol car and started over toward the county jail. 

Dr. Orifice was only one of eight prisoners in the back of the paddy wagon. Besides him, there were a couple of Semi-Norms*, a cyborg who was missing his arms, a man that had eyes in the back of his head, a woman who was dressed in rubber and had a mouth like a leech, a small white mouse with an unusually large cranium, and a skinny red colored person with the head, tail and feet of a cow. *Freak that appears to be normal, but does have superpowers, like Paul Heston   
The Cow-Boy, as Orifice had dubbed him, was staring blankly forward and chewing his cud. Orifice had tried starting a conversation with him a couple of times but had only got a "moo" in reply both times. He was left wondering what kind of crime Cow-Boy could have committed to get himself put in here. He wasn't what you would call a criminal mastermind.   
Cow-Boy swallowed what he was chewing on and looked around hungrily. Orifice watched him for a moment, and an idea began to form in his head. He leaned forward and said, "Are you hungry, Cow-Boy? You want something to eat?"   
Cow-Boy's eyes swung over toward him, and he said, "moo."   
"That's what I thought. Just hold on a second, I'll get you something." He leaned back on his seat and closed his eyes.   
"Leave him alone." said the woman in rubber. "Can't you see that he isn't all there?"   
Orifice ignored her and wrinkled his eyebrows in concentration. A gurgling sound came from his stomach. The rest of the prisoners turned to look at him.   
"Hey, buddy." said the armless cyborg. "What are you doing over there?"   
"I'm breaking out of here." said Orifice. His stomach made a wet belching sound, and then a sound like someone retching. He pulled up the front of his shirt, revealing the mystery opening he was named after. The rest of the prisoners shivered collectively at the site of it. He grunted like a man with constipation and something began to poke out of the dripping slit in his stomach.   
"Oh, my god, he's giving birth." said one of the semi-norms. The man turned and buried his face in the corner of the truck's holding cell and wept.   
With one last push, the thing fell from Orifice's orifice in a torrent of slime. He reached down and picked it up and the other prisoners saw that it was a condom that had been filled and tied shut.   
"The pigs couldn't bring themselves to search me there." he told them. "It was all a little too Freudian for them to handle, I guess." He tore open the top of the rubber and fished out a small baggy containing five pills. He dropped the pills into his hand and held them out to Cow-Boy.   
"Are ya' hungry, boy? Are ya'? Try these. They're really good!"   
The Cow-Boy eyes him stupidly. "moo." he said. He leaned forward, stuck out his tongue, and licked the pills from Orifice's hand.   
Dr. Orifice smiled, sat back, pulled down the front of his shirt, and waited for the shit to hit the fan.   


* * *

_**~Fin-Fan-Fic-Fanatics~**Letters and comments from readers. Do I rock or do I suck? Write me and tell me what you think. If you don't want your comments put in this letters column, or if you want them taken out, please let me know._

**Hey, that threat to kill off the main character worked pretty good. I got responses coming out the wazoo!**

Nice bit with the "Gun resuscitation" man, and Doctor Orifice seems someone straight out of the regular Dragon series.   
Are you implying that Dragon and his kin is a pseudo-humanoid race? The Angelican looks promising. All in all a nine out of ten. 

Oh yeah, don't kill Maxine,   
Hilton   
________________________   
Hey, man! 

Sorry about not emailing you last time. I didn't know you were looking for responses every month. I want you to know that I'm reading each issue as you put 'em out! You're a heck of a writer. And I like how you're kinda making up your own Dragon origin (at least, that's the kind of impression I get from how #4 ended!). Keep it up! 

Michael "Big Mac" McKinley   
__________________________   


** I put those two letters together because I confused some people with the ending to # 4. This is why I like to get feedback on my stories. It lets me know if people are getting what I am writing and gives me a chance to explain if people don't get it.**   
** Without giving too much away, I can tell you this. To my knowledge, there have only been three green skinned, finned, super beings, (Maxine, Malcolm, and the original Dragon). The Dragon's last battle, which was referred to in # 3, was with the Angelican.**   
** As for origins, the only one I am making up is Maxine's. That's why I set these stories in the future. I have read pretty much every appearance of the Savage Dragon, but I still don't feel comfortable writing in Erik's universe. By setting my stories two hundred years down the road I gave myself more room to move and less chances of screwing up. This way, you don't have to know the Dragon's origin to know Maxine's origin. Hope that cleared that up a little.**   
** You could probably expect the Angelican to show up somewhere around issue # 12.**

Subject: Note for the last person you'd thought to hear from... 

... me. ;) 

Well, I have to say, Dragon 2200 still rocks.. its a damn nice series,   
and #3 was an enjoyable read. I just printed off four, so I'll let you   
know what I think of that tonight. 

Alex Cook   


** Thanks, Alex**   
** That subject line could not have been more accurate. Alex works with the Future Shock fan fiction groups, which was where the Dragon 2200 originated. It was originally going to be a part of the Image Future Shock fan fiction group, but I don't play well with others, so I left the group and started self publishing. Well, we kissed and made up, so when Image Future Shock gets itself going they are going to release my Dragon stories along with the myriad of titles they have in the works. Just goes to show you, you never know how things will turn out around here.**

** 10-12-99 The above message was written on 10-10-99. The last sentence is now the one which could not be more accurate. Well, I'm back out of IFS. The same people are there and they're up to thier same old games, which means I'm back to doing this on my own. Aw, well, less frustration, better stories.**   
**** ****

Brian, 

Just wanted to drop you a line to let you know that I am about   
halfway through the third issue of Savage Dragon 2200, and all I can say is   
WOW! Very nice. I'm looking forward to reading the rest of the stuff on the   
list too. 

Paul McNally 

**Paul made the mistake of asking me what fan fic I had written and now I'm holding him captive and forcing him to read every thing I've ever written. Thanks, Paul. Here's some Mighty Mouse fics I wrote in second grade when you're finished with all those. What do you mean "sleep"?! Get to readin', man! Just kidding, thanks for reading.**   
  


Excellent story, once again, Mr. Campo. And again, my only complaint is   
that you don't seem to edit your stories, before posting them. Or was   
the CPR scene supposed to be in two different places? Anyway, enough   
nit-picking. I'm really enjoying this series of yours. 10 out of 10.   
See you next issue. 

C.L. Bishop AKA dragonflyonthewall 

**Heh, heh, I edit as much as I can. I spell check and proof read at least two times before I send it out. The CPR scene was indeed supposed to be in there twice. It's kind of an old storytelling device. Basically, you start off with a very unlikely scene, like The Fantastic Four's the Thing is the President of the United States (or Dan shooting Max). This is meant to hook in the reader and make them want to read the rest of the issue just so they can find out how this outlandish thing came to be. I tried to help it make a little more sense by sticking the time of day at the beginning of each scene. Sorry if it wasn't clear. Were there problems with the issue other than that? Thanks for writing, and please keep reading.**

** That goes for everybody. Thanks for writing. Feedback is what keeps us fan ficcers going. Without it we don't know if anyone is reading what we are writing and if no one is reading it, what's the point of writing it?**   
** Instead of a big list of other people's fan fic, this time I'm going to post all the other fic I have floating around out there. Enjoy.**

**[The Crow: A Sinister Tune][2]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/ARNY.html][2]

**[The Crow: Dark Age][3]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/crowffa/darkage.html][3]

**[The Crow:Leaving the Game][4]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/crowffa/leavingthegame.html][4]

**[Sansker:2200][5]**   
**[Sansker: A Change of Heart (incomplete at this time)][5]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/2200.html][5]

**[Sin City: Postcards from Maui][6]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/sincitypfm.html][6]

**[Sin City: Friends][7]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/sin.html][7]

**[Spawn: 1899][8]**   
[http://angelfire.com/or/bcampo/DORT.html][8]

**[Sansker: Strike of Midnight (only one issue, incomplete)][9]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/strikeofmidnight.html][9]   
  


   [1]: mailto:bcampo@hotmail.com
   [2]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/ARNY.html
   [3]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/crowffa/darkage.html
   [4]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/crowffa/leavingthegame.html
   [5]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/2200.html
   [6]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/sincitypfm.html
   [7]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/sin.html
   [8]: http://angelfire.com/or/bcampo/DORT.html
   [9]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/strikeofmidnight.html



	7. Default Chapter Title

The Dragon: 2200

# 6

by [Brian Campo][1] (bcampo@hotmail.com)   
(The kind of guy that ruins the whole fan fic hobby)

**This is a work of fan fiction.** The Savage Dragon and all related characters are owned by Erik Larsen, and I do not contest   
that ownership. This story is in no way official and it should not be taken as such. All characters in this story not owned by Mr.   
Larsen are owned by me, though I would gladly loan them out if asked nicely. 

**Warning:** This story may contain graphic violence, sexual situations and harsh language. If you shouldn't be reading it, don't. 

Visit the Dragon 2200 homepage for back issues and covers ([http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html][2]) 

Max kept the accelerator on the floor as they crossed town and cursed that the car's top speed was only two-eighty. A wounded cop was screaming over the police band radio, begging for back up and an ambulance. He didn't sound like he was doing too well. His voice sounded strangled and there was a phlegmy quality to it that probably meant he was drowning in his own blood. The thing was, he wasn't calling for himself, he was calling for his comrades that were in worse shape then himself. That's what had Maxine scared. When they finally got on scene there were going to be a lot of dead cops, some of which she might know.   
They had been headed over to the county jail to question Dr. Orifice when the "officer down" calls started coming in over the radio. Apparently the Freaks that were being transported to county had broken out of the paddy wagon and were meaning to make good on their escape. Somehow, a twelve foot tall, half human, half bull Superfreak had gotten involved in the situation and so far there were at least four cops dead as a result of it.   
Dan was talking her ear off, but she wasn't listening to what he was saying. He always did this when he was nervous. He talked and talked and not one bit of what he was saying was important. It was just his way of dealing with the stress. Right now, he was complaining that he would probably miss the season premiere of "Two Violent MutherFuckers", an animated sitcom on Fox. He was just making noise so that he wouldn't have to think about what they were heading into.   
Maxine could see where all the action was taking place from more than half a mile away. A building was on fire and the paddy wagon was protruding from it's side. The smoke billowing into the air was a beacon to the other cops that were coming to the rescue.   
As they got closer, the details of the situation became clearer. The back of the paddy wagon had been torn open, from the inside by the looks of it. The roof of the wagon's holding cell had large puncture holes in it, like someone had shoved a giant pencil through it. Maxine could see streaks of blood all over the white interior of the holding cell as they flew past it.   
The fight was on the street four stories below. She couldn't see the perp yet, but the roar of gunfire was coming out of the lower floors of a nearby parking garage. Bodies of Freaks and cops alike were scattered across the ground below the paddy wagon. They had been trampled and gored. The wounded cop who had been calling on the radio was visible, now. He was sitting on the ground, leaning up against his patrol car with a radio clenched in his right hand and his gun in the other. Max told Dan to get to that cop when they landed and see what he could do to help. She was going after the bull-man.   
She brought the car in low and dropped to the ground near the entrance of the parking garage. She exited the car at a run and headed towards the sounds of the struggle and gunfire. The other cops had been smart to draw the fight into the garage. Those low ceilings were going to make it hard for the tall perp to maneuver and would level the playing field a little.   
A shout rang out from inside the garage, and it was quickly followed by a scream and the crunch of bone. There was a bellow of rage, and the bull ran out of the entrance in front of Maxine. He was quite a sight. His red body was covered in blood, gore, and sweaty lather. His eyes were wild, swinging around in his head like a panicked horse. He had a massive set of horns protruding from the sides of his head that were easily six feet wide from tip to tip. Two cops were impaled on each horn, straight through their guts. They hung limply from the bull's horns and swung around like rag dolls when he moved his head.   
The bull spotted Maxine and snorted loudly. With a violent shake of it's head, it slung the dead cops off of it's horns. It charged forward, lowering it's head so that it's horns were aimed at Maxine. It was fast. In just two strides the thing was towering over her. It's fore head slammed into her lower ribcage and she was driven backwards into her patrol car The bull's horns tore into the car's metal side panels to Maxine's left and right and she found herself pinned between the bull's head and the car door at her back.   
Maxine clasped her hands together and brought them down hard on top of the bull's head. It huffed, bellowed, and then raised it's head, lifting her and the patrol car both straight up into the air. Max put a hand on each horn and shoved backward, pushing on the car with her back. The metal screeched as it was shoved back up the length of the horns. She was able to get her right leg up, now, and she braced her knee on the bull's snout. She shoved again, and the car flew off of the horns, releasing her. She fell to the ground and landed on her back.   
The bulls raised it's head, and then threw it forward, trying to pin her to the ground. She back rolled and narrowly avoided being gored. She came to her feet just as the bull was recovering his balance. Her right arm went back and then, BLAM!! She socked him on the chin. Hard. The bull took a couple of stumbling steps backwards, trying desperately to maintain consciousness. It's eyes uncrossed a moment later and focused on Maxine. It stepped toward her and took a swing with it's right arm. Maxine sidestepped it and delivered three blows to the bull's belly in quick secession. Right, Left, Right. Her dad had done some boxing back in the second World War, and he had taught Maxine everything he knew. She knew how to lay into a person and make it hurt. The bull shuddered with each blow, and when she stepped back, it doubled over with a grunt of pain. She thought she had him on the ropes, and started to drop her guard, a mistake she came to regret a second later. With a snort, he stepped forward in a rush and shoved his left horn in the space between Max's legs. It threw it's head up, and Maxine found herself being catapulted through the air and into the third floor of the parking garage. 

The cop who had radioed for help was dead when Dan got to him. Both of his legs had been broken, and he had the jagged ends of some broken ribs sticking out from his side. Since there was nothing that could be done for him, Dan went to check the rest of the bodies that were laying around for signs of life. He pulled out his gun and his radio and went from body to body checking them for a pulse. Each one he checked was dead. Normal humans just couldn't survive the wounds he had seen on them.   
One of the guards that had been driving the paddy wagon was laying nearby. The bull had shoved one of it's horns through the man's chest and then up through the top of his head. Another person, possibly one of the prisoners, was sitting at the foot of one of the buildings. His chest had a hoof shaped impression in it, and the wall behind him had a human shaped impression in it. Pieces and parts to what may have once been a cyborg were strewn across the ground. Dan found the other guard from the wagon laying next to a cop car that had been knocked onto it's top. He rolled the man over onto his back and was surprised to find a wound inconsistent with the ones on the other victims. This man had been killed with a shotgun at close range.   
That meant that the bull man wasn't the only perp still in commission. He started to get to his feet when he heard the crunch of a boot on broken glass. He spun toward the sound and saw Dr Orifice stepping out from behind the over turned patrol car. He had a shotgun in firing position and had it aimed right at Dan's head. 

Maxine sat up and probed the back of her head with her hand and a pained expression on her face. Now, THAT had hurt. After flying through the side of the parking garage she had impacted through a BMW, a Stealth Lexus, and a cherried out classic Pinto. She would have kept going with this slide of destruction had she not run into a metal barrier next to a booth for selling parking passes. The back of her head had smacked into the concrete filled pole with enough force to snap it off at the base. She had a pretty good sized cut across the back of her head and it was bleeding at a pretty steady rate. Great. Another uniform she would have to replace if she couldn't get the blood stains out.   
She got to her feet and looked out through the open sides of the garage. More cops had arrived and they were taking shots at the bull from the air. Good thinking, thought Maxine. Stay well out of his reach They were less likely to get gored that way. She preferred that some of the freak cops with some real power handled this big fella. He had killed too many humans cops all ready.   
She picked up the metal pole she had cut her head on and walked back to the spot where she had entered the garage. The bull was still below her, bellowing and charging at everything in sight. The bullets from above weren't stopping him, but they were hurting enough to work him up into a frenzy. He was driving his horns into cars, streetlights and mailboxes, just trying to find the thing that was hurting him and kill it.   
Max waved her arms and caught the attention of one of the cops circling over head. "Cease fire!" she shouted at him. The cop nodded in reply and picked up his radio. In a few seconds, the rest of the cops stopped shooting, too. Max pulled her radio out of her belt and turned it on.   
"If there are any Freak cops up there that can take a power punch I sure could use your help."   
After a moment a gruff voice answered her. "This is Jack Palin, Chalmers. What do you need from me?"   
Palin was just the kind of Freak she was after. He was seven foot three and was packing around nearly three hundred pounds of nigh invulnerable muscle. He had feline features, everything from pointy ears to a tail to a coat of fur. He was the undefeated arms wrestling champ of the thirty second precinct, having beat everyone, including Maxine. He was also one of the nicest guys you would ever meet.   
"I was just hoping you would help me team up on our friend Ferdinand down below." Max told him.   
"Can do." said Jack. The door on one of the flying cars opened and Jack leaned out of it. "I'm ready to drop into the fray when you are." he said.   
Maxine gripped the concrete filled metal pole in both hands like a baseball bat and said, "Let's do it." 

Dan knew that any attempts to turn the Faustin in his hand on Dr Orifice would only result in his head being splattered all over the surrounding asphalt. The end of Orifice's shotgun was only a few feet away and it would have been impossible for him to miss Dan if he fired.   
Dan chuckled nervously. "You're not mad about those little cracks I made when I was bringing you in, are you?"   
"It's like the bumper stickers say. " said Orifice. "I don't get mad."   
"Crap." said Dan. He made his move. He didn't turn. He just jumped backwards. He launched himself from his crouching position and brought up his gun at the same time. He fired, but not at Orifice. He fired at the back of the cop car in front of him. The high powered rounds slammed into the car's back fender and shoved it away from him. The car spun on it's roof with a shriek and the grinding of broken glass. Dr Orifice was struck by the front end of the car just as he was about to fire the shotgun. He stumbled forward, trying to keep his balance.   
Dan landed on his back, tucked his head, and rolled. He came up firing, squeezing off two quick rounds. Dr. Orifice's leg disconnected at the knee with an explosion of blood and bone matter. He toppled to the ground and dropped the shotgun.   
"Learn to take a joke." said Dan. 

"Hey!!" Max shouted as she jumped from the third floor of the garage, instantly getting the bull's attention. He turned from the dumpster he was savaging and stomped towards her at a run. Maxine pulled back the metal pole in her hands and waited for him to get close enough. Now! she thought. She swung the short pole like Babe Ruth going for a home run. It connected with the bull's jaw and he was suddenly going in the opposite direction. He landed on his back and slid for a few feet before coming to a stop. Maxine closed the distance between them with her make shift billy club ready for another swing.   
The bull got slowly to his feet, swaying like a drunken sailor. He woke up, though, a moment later when Jack Palin dropped onto his back and secured a sleeper hold on him. The bull threw itself backward into the closest wall, trying to dislodge the cop clinging to his neck. Maxine stepped in and cracked the metal pole across the bull's midsection, driving the air from his lungs. She dropped the pole and laid into him with her fists. Between Palin's sleeper hold and Maxine's assault, he didn't stand a chance. Ten seconds later his eyes were rolling back in his head and he was toppling forward onto his face.   
Palin released the sleeper hold and sat back to catch his breath. "Not bad, Chalmers." he told her. "Not too bad at all."   
"Couldn't have done it without you." said Maxine. She laid down on her back in the street and stared at the sky while her breathing returned to normal. "Thank god it's Friday."   
"It's only Wednesday."   
"Shit." 

That night, Maxine lay in a bed that she could call her own with a smile on her face. She didn't have to worry about where she was going to stay anymore. She had a home.   
After the incident with the bull Dan and Max had headed back to the station to clock out for the day. The cut on her head had stopped bleeding and was beginning to heal over by the time she got back to the cop shop. She changed her clothes in the locker room and confirmed her earlier fears. Barring some laundry miracle, her uniform was hopelessly stained. If this kind of thing kept up, her paychecks were going to start shrinking. Uniforms weren't cheap.   
After work, Dan drove her over to the barracks to pick up all of her things and then she had spent the rest of the evening setting up her new room at Janet William's house. It was nice just to sit on the bed, look around the room and think, "This is mine."   
Around eight o'clock she called up Chris Anderson and let him know that she had a phone number should he choose to call her. After a little beating around the bush, they decided that they would go out for dinner and a movie on Friday night, which made Maxine squirm with delight.   
Things were good. She was tired. She fell asleep watching the HV in her room. The news kept showing this clip of Dan standing with one foot on the unconscious bull's back. He would point at the camera, smile, wink, and say, "Beef... it's what's for dinner."   
His mother had thought he looked like an ass. Maxine thought it was pretty funny.

**Texas Ranger Military Base, Dallas, Texas-**

LOADING. . .

CYBERDATA SYSTEMS-1992   
UPDATED-1996,2005,2049,2064,   
2189,2100,2118,2158,2173,2198

CHECKING ORGANIC COMPONENTS   
COMPONENTS INTACT AND RESPONDING

A man sits alone alone in the dark and wonders if he really wants to keep living. He has sixty seconds to decide.

20:59:00: HRS, TEXAS TIME-   
RUN SECURITY PROGRAMS   
60 SECONDS AND COUNTING   
PASSWORD?

In his hands, he holds the picture of a teen age girl with green skin and a fin on top of her head. She is wearing a cheerleader uniform that says "Dallas Rangers" across the breasts and a smile on her face. She is the reason he has continued for the last nine years. It's not like she needs him anymore. She's grown up, become her own woman. He's been reading of her exploits in Chicago, and he feels a certain pride. Considering how she could have turned out (with her early childhood being like it was) he thought he had done well by her.

45 SECONDS AND COUNTING   
PASSWORD?

CHECKING BRAIN ACTIVITY . . .   
BRAIN ACTIVE AND ALERT

How long should a man be expected to live like this? You couldn't even really call him a man any more. How much of what was once John Armstrong was still alive? A few bits and pieces.   
His brain had been saved from death and decomposition in the early twenty first century by an experiment intended to help altzheimers patients recover their memories and sanity. It had proved ineffective for those with altzheimers, but had proved quite successful with John's deteriorating brain cells. It had encouraged his brain to start growing new cells to replace the dead ones and it was still working today just as well as it had when they first injected him with the drugs a hundred and sixty-five years before. His brain had remained healthy while the rest of him had died away. The years had wore him away, and he had slowly been replaced by the mechanical.   
Little squishy bits and little squishy pieces were all that was left of John Armstrong. A brain and a little spinal column.

30 SECONDS AND COUNTING   
PASSWORD?

They wouldn't even know that he had done it to himself. They would come looking for him and find him dead. The old soldier finally died, they would say. ( Old soldiers never die, they just fade away. A bit of an old song flashes through his head and then he hears the same words from one of the thousands of Officers he had served under over the years. Was it MacArthur?) They didn't know about Cinderella, or what she could do. They would think that his organic bits and pieces had finally given up the ghost. No rumor, no scandal, just an old man finally laid to rest.

15 SECONDS AND COUNTING   
PASSWORD?

LOADING: CINDERELLA.EXE   
HOLD. . .

It's not like it even really suicide. He isn't doing anything to himself to cause his death. All he has to do is is NOT put in the password. All systems shut down. Blood stops flowing to his brain bits. Peace at last.

10 SECONDS AND COUNTING   
PASSWORD?

There is someone knocking at the door. He knows what they have to say. It's because they always have the same thing to say   
. "Colonel Armstrong, sir? There's a problem."   
I'm a two hundred and eighty year old fix it man, he thinks. When the shit hits the fan, he's the man who burns the shit and cleans the fan.   
What will they do when I am gone?   
He knows the answer, and that is why he starts to curse.   
How many times has he played this game before? How many times has he toyed with that, oh, so tempting thought of not putting in the password, just letting himself slip away? What? Twenty-four times a day? Seven days a week? Was it so bad for an old man just to want to rest in peace?

FIVE SECONDS AND COUNTING   
PASSWORD?

The lieutenant is knocking on the door and John Armstrong is cursing.   
Damn it, damn it!   
They don't come to get him unless it's a life or death situation. They don't call in the old fix it man for trivial situations. People were in danger, most likely a lot of people. They wouldn't be coming for him if it wasn't important.   
What will they do when he is gone?   
They will die. No one else can do the things he can. Without his help, people will die.

RUN:/ CINDERELLA.EXE-   
----CANCEL   
PASSWORD? ******

PASSWORD ACCEPTED   
SECURITY SHUTTING DOWN.

The lieutenant was interrupted mid-knock by the opening of the door. John Armstrong stood in the doorway and he was an imposing sight. He had seen a few over hauls since the days when he used to call himself Superpatriot, each one making him appear less and less human. The head that used to appear semi normal was now a stainless steel skull. The Lone Star flag had been painted onto it with a spray can. The flag also adorned the metal plates that covered his abdomen. What used to be muscles were pistons now. Joints had been replaced with servos. An electric pump had replaced his heart back in 2067 and it had been replaced twenty six times since then.   
"What can I do for you, lieutenant?" asked John.   
"Colonel Armstrong, sir? There's a problem."   
"There always is." said John. 'Lead the way."

General Dobbs greeted John with a handshake when he entered the command center. This was the hub of all the Texas Rangers military operations around the world. Decisions were made here everyday that could mean the lives of thousands of people.   
"Glad you could make it, John." he said. "We tried to call you, but the phones must be messing up."   
"No." said John. "I disconnected it. I didn't want to be disturbed." Even while he was speaking, his eyes were scanning the bank of monitors behind the general. They were all showing long distance shots of a jumbo jet sitting out on a runway. There was a reason the footage was shot from so far away. Here in Texas, the press wasn't allowed to go near a crime scene or emergency situation until they had the express written permission of the military officer in charge of the situation. Anyone violating that order could be shot on sight. Long ago, the Rangers had got sick of the press getting in the way of a terrorist situation and the lives of Rangers and hostages alike being lost because of it.   
"Well, I'm sorry that we had to bother you, but we have a situation here and we need your help. There' s a plane sitting on the runway down at the airport. It was hi-jacked just outside of Chicago by a man with electrical powers. He is demanding that a hover limo be stocked with food and supplies and that it's brought out to the plane. He is going to keep a couple of hostages until he feels he is a safe distance away and then he says he going to release them."   
"Do we know what his problem is? Why he's doing it?"   
"No. It looks like it all started because the plane was going to turn back to Chicago. He really didn't want to go back there, so he started killing folks and threatening to make the plane crash. We figure he's on the run from something. We're talking with Chicago police right now, trying to figure out who he is."   
"Has he hurt anyone?" asked John.   
"Yeah. He killed the co-pilot and one of the stewardesses. He apparently shocked them to death. He says he going to start killing more unless we get him what he wants."   
John continued to watch the monitors, weighing his options, laying out possible scenarios. He would want to get the hi-jacked away from as many hostages as possible and lower the risk for loss of life. He made a decision, and prayed it would be the right one.   
"We'll give him what he wants. Get him the car."   
  


* * *

_**~Fin-Fan-Fic-Fanatics~**Letters and comments from readers. Do I rock or do I suck? Write me and tell me what you think. If you don't want your comments put in this letters column, or if you want them taken out, please let me know._

** Going by my usual method of releasing an issue every three weeks, this bad boy is really late. I do have a list of excuses, though. First and foremost would be my moving from one job and apartment to another this month. I was also working on a children's story which my wife and I are going to make into books and give out as christmas presents this year. Half of this issue was written a month ago, half was written over the last few days. The guilt was killing me, so forgive me if the last part with John Armstrong seems rushed. I just wanted to get it done and out.**   
** On the other hand, according to my original publishing schedule of one issue every month, this issue is early. I guess it all depends on how you look at it. (excuses, excuses;)**   
** Now, onto the letters for issue # 5:******

Brian,   
I don't think my complaint came off the way I meant it; sorry if it   
sounded bitchy. Editing is a nitpicker for me. I don't know why I   
picked on the CPR thing; it makes total sense to me now (what was I   
thinking?). Mostly, I was talking about punctuation and the occasional   
spelling mistake. Here's an example: "parameter?" Did you maybe mean   
"perimeter?" A "parameter" is a set of guidelines "Data" operates   
within. A "perimeter" is what "DS9" would like to confine "The   
Dominion" within. That sort of thing. Just call me the human   
dictionary, or anal spellchecker; whatever alleviates your frustration.   
Anyway, I am lovvvingg the stories. Too cool. When I get my own   
computer (I'm typing from work {but I'm off the clock}) I'm gonna print   
'em all out. This printer doesn't work right. Until then, be in good   
health, 'cause if I don't see #6 in 2000, I'm gonna have to e-beat you   
senseless. :>) Kidding.

Hoping the Y2K bug isn't Chalmers' worst enemy,   
C.L. Bishop   
AKA Dragonfly

**These are exactly the kind of letters I like. I give other people the same kind of feedback and hope they will do the same for me. It never occurred to me that there are two perimeter words. I generally rely on spell check for spelling and whether it sounds right for grammar. Thanks for the help on this and by all means, let me know when I screw up. I'd rather people let me know then let me keep on making the mistakes.**   
** Well, here is number six. It's a little rushed, but we got the end of the world hanging over our heads and I wanted to get it out:) # 7 is on the way.**

Once again, cool stuff. The thing I like most about your story is your unique characters and unique handle of certain "old" situations. Dr. Orifice is truly disgusting sounding individual. Does he have any sort of powers besides the nasty crap-hole for a stomach? The Civil War ghost character is really intriguing too. Can't wait to hear his story. Such as why is he so concerned with not being afraid? I'm sure we'll find out soon enough. Well, keep it up!   
  
Michael "Big Mac" McKinley

**Nope, he's just disgusting. I always thought that in a world filled with Freaks not all powers could be useful.**   
** As for the ghost, after seeing Sleepy Hollow, I wouldn't be surprised if people thought that he was a rip off of the Headless Horseman. While he is a rip off, it's not of the Headless Horseman. I made him to be more in the vein of Ghost Rider. We should be seeing more of him in issues eight or nine.******

**[The Crow: A Sinister Tune][3]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/ARNY.html][3]

**[The Crow: Dark Age][4]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/crowffa/darkage.html][4]

**[The Crow:Leaving the Game][5]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/crowffa/leavingthegame.html][5]

**[Sansker:2200][6]**   
**[Sansker: A Change of Heart (incomplete at this time)][6]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/2200.html][6]

**[Sin City: Postcards from Maui][7]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/sincitypfm.html][7]

**[Sin City: Friends][8]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/sin.html][8]

**[Spawn: 1899][9]**   
[http://angelfire.com/or/bcampo/DORT.html][9]

**[Sansker: Strike of Midnight (only one issue, incomplete)][10]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/strikeofmidnight.html][10]   
  


   [1]: mailto:bcampo@hotmail.com
   [2]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html
   [3]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/ARNY.html
   [4]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/crowffa/darkage.html
   [5]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/crowffa/leavingthegame.html
   [6]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/2200.html
   [7]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/sincitypfm.html
   [8]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/sin.html
   [9]: http://angelfire.com/or/bcampo/DORT.html
   [10]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/strikeofmidnight.html



	8. Default Chapter Title

The Dragon: 2200

# 7

by [Brian Campo][1] (bcampo@hotmail.com)   
(who is thinking about holding a round table interview with himself. )

**This is a work of fan fiction.** The Savage Dragon and all related characters are owned by Erik Larsen, and I do not contest   
that ownership. This story is in no way official and it should not be taken as such. All characters in this story not owned by Mr.   
Larsen are owned by me, though I would gladly loan them out if asked nicely. 

**Warning:** This story may contain graphic violence, **sexual situations** and harsh language. If you shouldn't be reading it, don't. 

Visit the Dragon 2200 homepage for back issues and covers ([http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html][2]) 

**Clint Eastwood Memorial Airport, Dallas Texas-** Paul Heston let out a WHOOP! of joy when he saw the white limo skimming out over the tarmac. They had finally come to their senses and granted him his demands. Now, THAT'S how you got their attention. You kill a couple of hostages right at the start and let them know that you mean business. Then you tell them exactly what you want and say if I don't get it then you better start digging some six feet holes and lots of them. Every time they use the phrase, "I'm sorry. We can't do that.", you kill one passenger. Once they figure out that their negotiators aren't going to work they start listening to what you have to say.   
Paul pounded his fist on the window he was looking out of and laughed. He might just get out of this mess after all. He turned and walked back up into the first class section of the plane. Once he had taken the plane hostage, he'd had all the passengers move to first class so that he could keep an eye on them. The situation was anything but comfortable for them; they were crowded into a space that was designed to hold only a third of their number. All eyes snapped to him when he walked in the room. He leaned against the door jam, crossed his arms over his chest, and smiled at them.   
"Well, there's good news and there's bad news." he told them. "Good news first. If everyone can behave themselves for just a little longer, this will all be over very soon. The Rangers have decided that they are going to give me what I want, which means that I can get out of your hair."   
They all looked very relieved.   
"But. And here's the bad news." continued Paul. "I will need to take a couple of hostages with me, for insurance purposes."   
The pilot of the airplane raised his hand. "I'll go." After he said the words, he looked like he might get sick.   
"Thanks, but no thanks. I'm not looking for volunteers." said Paul. "I already have who I want picked out." He looked around the cabin and located the boy and the girl that had been sitting next to him when he first got on the plane. "You two. Get up here."   
"No!" shouted a man that Paul recognized as their father. He stood up and put himself between Paul and the two children. "You're not taking my kids. Take me if you want, but not my kids."   
"I take who I want to take." said Paul. He clenched and unclenched his fist and took a step towards the man. "Get out of the way."   
The father of the boy and girl stood his ground. Everyone standing within a few feet of them felt their hair stand on end   
"Fine." said Paul. He took another step forward and poked the man in the chest with his index finger. The man convulsed and fell backwards onto his kids. He hit the ground with a thump and didn't move. Paul had hit him with enough electricity to knock him out, but not enough to kill him. "Anybody else want to argue with me? I got plenty more if you need some of that."   
No one said anything.   
"That's what I thought. You!" He pointed at the boy. "And you!" He pointed at the girl. "You come with me."   
The boy and the girl started to cry, but they did as they were told. They stepped over their father's unconscious body and followed Paul.   
"The rest of you just be good and nothing will happen to these kids here. You try anything stupid..." he smiled maliciously. "well, they're in for a shocking experience."   
He led the children toward the back of the plane to one of the rear exits. He had given the Rangers strict instructions on how and where he wanted the limo delivered to him. The car was to be parked right below that entrance and then the driver was supposed to beat feet back towards the hanger. Paul would exit the plane holding hands with both of his hostages. If any Rangers were within sight, or if anyone took a shot at him he would dump ten thousand volts into each hostage and kill them instantly. If he felt he was being followed, he would kill one hostage. If he was allowed to escape unmolested, he would release both hostages unharmed.   
Paul pulled up the lever on the door and shoved it open. He stepped back quickly, waiting to see if anyone was waiting outside. Nothing happened. Next to the door was the pull switch for the inflatable slide that would allow Paul and the kids to get to the ground. He pulled on it and the slide exploded out from a compartment below the door. Once it was inflated, Paul put the little girl in front of him and cautiously stepped out into the doorway. He scanned the tarmac below, but couldn't see anybody other than the limo driver hoofing it back to the hanger. They were playing it smart and playing it straight with him. Paul grabbed the hand of the little boy and then stepped out onto the slide. Together, the three of them slid to the ground below. He led the kids to the limo with a hurried walk.   
"Open the door." he told the little boy. He continued to look all around for any movement that might indicate a sniper.   
The boy did as he was told.   
"Look inside. Tell me if there is anybody in there. If you lie I'll kill you."   
The boy stuck his head in the car door and looked towards the front and the back of the car. "There's no one in there." he said.   
Paul shoved the boy inside and then stepped into the car, pulling the girl in with him. The kid was telling the truth. The spacious interior of the car was empty. He shut the door behind him and engaged all of the locks.   
"Sit down." he told the boy. He drug the girl up into the front of the car and pushed her into the passenger seat. He took the driver's seat and started the engine. The gas tank was full, good for over a thousand miles. This is going TOO well, he told himself. You better keep your eyes peeled. He dropped the car in to drive and pressed down on the altitude pedal.   
Ten minutes later, he was had the throttle open wide and was headed down through the southern Texas sky at one hundred and eighty MPH. He checked the rear view mirrors every few seconds, but there was no indication that was being followed. He figured that it would be less than an hour until he was crossing over into Mexico. From there he would be able to get another car and find someplace to hide.   
Despite what he had told the Rangers, he had no intention of releasing the two children. To him, they weren't just hostages or insurance. They were also investment capital. He knew what the children were worth in asian markets. When he could get as much as 35,000 for the two of them there was no way that he was going to let them go. With that kind of money it would be easy for him to set up shop somewhere outside of Chicago or Texas. He could reenter the states later when the hunt for him had cooled down some. He could even use some of the money to buy himself a new identity if it looked like he would need one.   
Paul turned around part of the way to check on the boy. The kid was curled up in one of the limo's seats and staring at him.   
"What's your name, kid?" he asked as he turned back around to face the front.   
"Devon" said the boy. It was clear from his tone and expression that he didn't like Paul.   
"Well, Devon, why don't you look around back there and see if they gave us anything to drink? Make yourself useful."   
The boy did as he was told. He got up from his seat and started opening the little cabinets by the limo's wet bar.   
"What's in there?" asked Paul, as he glanced in his rear view mirror.   
"Just a bunch of canned food. Tuna fish. Soup. Peanut Butter. Bread." said Devon.   
"Try the fridge." Paul told him.   
Devon flipped open the catch that held the fridge door closed and then opened the door. He stared into it for a moment and then glanced up toward the driver's seat. Back at the fridge, back at Paul.   
"Well?" said Paul. "What's in there?"   
"I think maybe you should come look at it." said the boy. He stepped back away from the little refrigerator.   
"What are you talking about, boy?" said Paul. "It's a simple question. What is in the damn fridge?"   
The boy remained silent.   
"Goddamnit." said Paul. "I can see we're going to have some problems, you and I." He put the car on cruise control and pushed himself up out of his seat. "I don't have time for this kind of shit, you little brat." He moved quickly in Devon's direction and grabbed the boy by the shoulder. "Now you listen to me. When I say "leap", you leap. When I say, "What's in the goddamn fridge", you tell me what's in the goddamn fridge. You got it?!"   
The boy wasn't looking at him. The boy was still staring into the fridge. Paul turned to see what he was looking at and stopped. The inside of the fridge was filled with metallic tubing and pistons. It occupied every square centimeter of the small two foot square space.   
"What in the hell?"   
The tubing began to move. It began to turn and twist in on itself like a bucket filled with snakes. Pieces came apart while others formed together. There was a loud whirring sound and a hand snapped out of the refrigerator. It was quickly followed by a half formed arm. The hand latched onto Paul's leg and it jerked him towards the fridge. He let out a shout of surprise as he was yanked from his feet.   
A foot emerged from the fridge and then so did a leg. It planted itself firmly on the floor of the limo while a hip and shoulder began to form out of the tubing. Something human shaped was coming out of there.   
The boy had retreated back to his seat and was watching the ordeal with a scared look on his face. His sister did the same from the front of the limo.   
In a panic, Paul leaned forward and wrapped his hands around the thing's arm. He started feeding voltage into it. High voltage. He started burning up all the energy he had been saving up since he had taken the plane hostage. The thing seemed unaffected by his assault. It was almost all the way formed as it stepped all the way out of the fridge, the last snaking tendrils of metal tubing were finding their place in the body now. Paul recognized his attacker.   
It was the SuperPatriot, or what ever he was calling himself these days. The one who had turned his back on his country.   
It grabbed him by his upper arms and then it shoved him back against the hull of the hover car.   
It spoke. "You're under arrest." said the Ranger. "As a terrorist in the state of Texas, you have no rights. Any resistance on your part can and will be met with lethal force. Do you understand?" The thing's right hand and arm formed into a six barreled cannon which it aimed right at his head.   
Paul clenched and unclenched his fists, drawing up every bit of power still in his body. "Oh, I understand perfectly, pig. But if you think I'm going to let you take me in, you're crazy." He laid both hands on the cyborg and unleashed one massive burst of power. SuperPatriot shuddered, but didn't let go of him.   
The cyborg's eyes began to glow a bright red. Something inside of him began to making a loud whining sound.   
"Very well." said SuperPatriot.   
Then Paul knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of his power. All the energy he had shocked the cyborg with and much, much more rushed back into him His muscles tensed so hard he thought that they might tear loose. He jerked and thrashed in SuperPatriot's grip and he started to scream. Something was cooking, and he suspected that it was himself he was smelling. The back of his head struck the roof of the car, and then everything went black. 

At nine o'clock that evening, the white hover limo returned to the airport. When it's doors were thrown open, two children raced out of them and into their parents welcoming arms. A moment later, Texas Ranger John Armstrong stepped from the car dragging behind him the unconscious body of Paul Heston. The news crews were given permission to come closer and they arrived just in time to get a few pictures of the hero retreating into the darkness of the airplane hanger.   
And that's how things got done down here in Texas. 

**Friday night, Chicago- **Chris pushed Maxine up against the wall outside his apartment door and then leaned in quickly for a kiss.   
"Aw, God!" he said a second later, as he leaned back away from her, clutching at his right eye.   
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" said Maxine. She was trying to appear sympathetic but it wasn't selling as she was about to break out in laughter. This wasn't the first time a guy had nearly blinded himself on her fin.   
"You could have put my eye out with that thing!" said Chris. He was opening his eye slowly, checking if he was still able to see. His eye was watering pretty good, but it wasn't seriously hurt.   
Maxine pushed her fin back over her head with her hand and said, "Ok, it's safe now. C'm'ere." The seductive way she smiled made him want to loosen his collar.   
Chris hesitated for a moment and then leaned in to kiss her. Successfully this time. "I should invest in safety goggles." he told her between kisses.   
Maxine let go of the fin, letting it slap down over the top of Chris' head while she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. He shoved his hand into his right trouser pocket and began fishing for his keys while she stuck her hand in his left pocket and fished for something else.   
Dinner had gone well, both of them had found themselves feeling comfortable in the others presence. The conversation was kept light, but there was definitely signals passing back and forth between them. Little glances, smiles, and stares that lasted a little too long. When the tension got to be too much for them to stand, they asked for the check. The serious heavy petting had started when they got out of the restaurant and into Chris' car. They had sat there for a moment in uncomfortable silence, and then Maxine had crawled over into his seat with him and they locked lips. When they came up for air several minutes later, he asked her if she would like to come over to his place. "Sure." she said. She had retreated back to her own seat so that he could drive. They stopped several more times along the way to resume steaming up the windows. Getting up the stairs to his apartment had been an adventure. Maxine had tried to ascend them backwards, not wanting to turn away from Chris. She had ended up falling on her ass several times, each time eliciting a round of laughter from both of them.   
Now, just minutes later, he was pressing up against her and making little frustrated gasps and grunts.   
"Are you going to get that in there anytime soon?" Maxine asked.   
"Almost got it." he told her. He jiggled his hand around and then added a little pressure.   
"You want me to do it?"   
"No. I got it." There was a click, and his apartment door opened. Chris reached down and grabbed Maxine by her ass and then tried to heft her up onto his hips. He didn't get her off the ground.   
"Don't." she told him. "I weigh nearly two hundred pounds. You'll throw your back out."   
"No shit." he wheezed as he let her go.   
She backed into his apartment dragging him with her. He grabbed the bottom of the white T-shirt she was wearing and pulled upwards. She let him pull it up over her head and then began to fumble with the buttons on the front of his shirt. He went to work unlocking the mysteries of her bra clasp. Tearing at each others clothes, they moved into his bedroom and fell on the bed. 

Later that night, they lay in Chris' bed catching their breath. She was propped up against the head board on a couple of pillows while he rested his head on her belly. He traced the contours of her leg with his index and middle fingers, a slight frown on his face. She ran her fingers through his sweat dampened hair and stroked his head affectionately.   
"I'm sorry." he told her after a few minutes of silence. "I didn't know."   
"Sorry? For what? Didn't know what?"   
"I didn't realize that this was your first time. If I'd known, I would have. . . I don't know, taken it a little slower, made it special or something."   
"I hate to burst your bubble," Max told him. "but you are not my first."   
"But, I saw the blood. . ."   
"Just another side effect of a Freak healing factor. Everything on me and in me heals back to normal, including broken hymens."   
He rolled over so that he could look her in the face. "You mean that every time we. . ."   
"Yep. You get to deflower me every time."   
"Get to? Doesn't it hurt?"   
"For less that a second, and then the healing starts and it stops hurting. I've had more uncomfortable things happen during sex, believe me."   
"Is it wrong of me to think that's weird?"   
Max laughed at him. "No, it's ok if you think it's weird. Can you live with it?"   
He rolled back over. "Hmmm, let me see. My girlfriend with a great personality and the body of a super model is a perpetual virgin. It's going to take a little time, but I think I can live with it." He paused "It's those toes that are buggin' me."   
Maxine laughed and thrust her hips up, throwing him of her. Chris rolled onto his back while she crawled up on top of him, straddling him.   
"Feel up to another round?" she asked.   
"Apparently so." he said, glancing down between them at his crotch. She followed his look and saw that he certainly appeared to be willing.   
"Be gentle." said Maxine. "It's my first time." 

Still later that night, Max crawled out of bed and put on her panties and Chris' button up shirt. The shirt was a little too tight in the chest and shoulders for her to button up, but it would be fine while she went exploring. She hadn't really had an opportunity to look his apartment over when she came in (as she was otherwise occupied at the time) and she wanted to see what it looked like. He was snoring lightly, so she was quiet as she snuck out of the room.   
It was an old loft. Walls had been put in to separate the rooms but they only went up ten feet in the rooms thirty foot height. It gave a nice open feel to the place. Spacious. There were some skylights in the ceiling that let in plenty of natural light and you could see the stars through them.   
As she had always suspected he would be, Chris was a very neat person. Everything had it's place and was in it's place. His kitchen was immaculately clean, a rare thing for a bachelor apartment. All of the food in the cabinets was healthy and carefully organized by type and date. It was the same for the other rooms in the house. In the bathroom, the toilet seat was down, there was no toothpaste in the sink, and the shower had no mildew. This guy was just too good to be true.   
His studio was a complete contrast. This seemed to be the room where Chris let himself go. There were piles and piles of photos and equipment, everything from huge lights to developing tanks to racks of chemicals. He didn't just do photography for the police it seemed. There was also some portrait work and even some landscapes. The walls were covered with pictures he had taken, some of disasters, some of children in a parade, hundreds of events and places from around Chicago. There was even a pictorial cut out of a Life magazine he had done about a Freak family here in Chicago.   
And there was a picture of Maxine. It was hanging right above his work table where he could look up and see it any time. It looked like he had taken it on the day they met, the day that Maxine had accidentally killed the girl in the Gorilla suit. It showed her standing a few feet away from an ambulance with her thumbs hooked in her belt. Dan was standing right beside her, a concerned look on his face. Her eyes were red and puffy because she had been crying.   
She heard a creak behind her and she turned around. Chris was standing in the doorway. He was dressed in pajama bottoms.   
"Hey." he said. He rubbed the back of his head and looked like he was trying to wake up. "I woke up and you were gone."   
"I was just looking around your place." she said. "I hope you don't mind."   
"No. That's just fine. I thought you had left or something." He walked up to her and put his arms around her. She leaned back against him and rested the back of her head on his shoulder.   
She turned back to the picture on the wall and said, "I didn't know you had taken this that day."   
"Well, the best pictures come from when the person doesn't know they are being photographed."   
"If you would have asked I would have smiled for you."   
He chuckled at that. "I like this one better. All the pictures I see of you in the paper, you always look mad. You've got this "Dirty Harry" look on your face and you look like someone is about to get their head torn off. This is the first time I had seen you with your defenses down. It appealed to me."   
"I usually am mad. Reporters tend to make me that way."   
"I was going to be a journalist once upon a time. It turned out that they wanted me to be a little more cruel than I was willing to be, so I looked for another line of work. You got to have a little pit bull in you to work in the press now days."   
"Well, you seem to do well without it." said Maxine. " When did you do Life magazine?"   
"About four years ago. Boy, that family had it rough. No work, high rent, they almost ended up on the streets. I helped Barry get a job doing construction after I did that pictorial. I still see them every once in a while." He leaned close and kissed her on the neck. She tilted her head to give him better access.   
"Are they doing well?"   
"They're getting by. Barry's still working at the same place." His hands were moving across her chest and belly now, and she got the feeling that his mind was no longer on the conversation.   
"I have to be at work in a couple of hours, you know."   
"That's too bad." he said. "It's my day off."   
"Do you think that they would buy it if I called in sick?" She reached back, grabbed his pajama bottoms, and pulled him closer.   
"I doubt it, Little Miss Healing Powers."   
"Then can I use your shower?"   
"You sure can." More kisses on the neck   
"I may need help"   
"I'm a helpful guy." he said. 

The next morning, Dan was waiting for her outside the women's locker room with a box of doughnuts and some coffee. He had already managed to get some of the glaze from the doughnuts on his tie and there was powdered sugar on the bottom of his nose. As usual, he was oblivious to both. He looked a little uncertain when he saw the smile on her face   
"You ok?" he muffled through the food in his mouth.   
"I'm fine." she said.   
"Doughnut?" he held the box out to her.   
"No, thanks." she said. She started down the hall, still smiling. She was headed to the briefing room.   
"I came by my mom's this morning to pick you up." he said as he tried to keep up. " You weren't there."   
"I stayed out late last night. You know how it is."   
"Oh, she locked you out. She used to do that to me all the time."   
"No, I stayed some place else."   
He stopped in his tracks and his mouth fell open. Light bulbs were going on in his head. "Wait.... NOOOOOOO! You didn't.... aw, man, I don't want to know!"   
"That's alright, cause I'm not going to tell you."   
He continued to stare at her with eyes wide open. "With the PSYCHO?!?!?!"   
"Shut up, Dan. It's a nice day. You aren't going to ruin it."   
They entered the briefing room just as everyone else who was on this shift was filing it. Max took a seat toward the back and slouched down in her chair. Dan sat in the chair behind her. Captain Hughes came in with a stack of papers and went to the podium at the front of the room.   
Max felt a tap on her shoulder and she rolled her eyes. Dan leaned forward so he could whisper in his ear.   
"Did you check his freezer?"   
"Shut up, Dan."   
"Any packages that look a little funny?"   
Hughes cleared his throat, and gave Dan a glare that shut him up.   
"Good morning, everyone." said Hughes. "First off, I wanted to let you all know that last night the Texas Rangers caught the man who tried to kill Officer Chalmers earlier this week. He hijacked a plane and was apprehended while he was trying to escape."   
A little cheer went around the room.   
"The Texas government has agreed to extradite him to the states to face charges as long as we agree to send him back when we are done with him. He'll be arriving here in Chicago monday afternoon under the custody of a..." he checked his papers. "Ranger John Armstrong."   
Max grinned and tapped her feet excitedly.   
"What's your problem?" whispered Dan.   
"That's my dad!" she told him. "My dad's coming to town!"   


* * *

_**~Fin-Fan-Fic-Fanatics~**Letters and comments from readers. Do I rock or do I suck? Write me and tell me what you think. If you don't want your comments put in this letters column, or if you want them taken out, please let me know._

**Well, I had been warning you guys that this series was going to have sexual situations and this issue I made good on the threat. I tried to keep it tasteful, and I hope no one was offended. (I'm lying. I really don't care.) I guess Maxine just got a different kind of action this time around.**

**Onto the letter:**

Brian,   
I had started reading #6 on the 17th, but didn't get to finish. I   
finally read the rest of it today (Merry Christmas, by the way). Excellent.   
So, Superpatriot is still around, huh? Interesting. I'm guessing Maxine   
isn't his natural daughter? Doesn't matter- I'm along for the ride, anyway.   
**She is adopted. I've mentioned it a couple of times, mainly way back in issue # 1.**   
I'm curious to see how the hostage situation plays out- the ghost   
character intrigues me. There's something oddly familiar about him- like   
I've seen a similar character somewhere. I read that you had Ghost Rider in   
mind, but that's not who I'm thinking of. I think the character I'm thinking   
of was from some non-comic story. Maybe you've just tapped into an archetype.   
**All I know is, somebodies getting ripped off:) Actually, now that I think about it he reminds me a lot of the Red Knight from The Fisher King.**   
I was very surprised to see that you're married?!? Wow. I had   
tremendous respect for your writing ability before, but now, I am truly in   
awe. Anyone who can juggle a family and this kind of time taking creative   
pursuit derserves his props. You da man! And your wife must be a true   
saint. Congrats on all fronts. (By the way: personally, I'd be interested   
to see the children's story, just to see the difference in your writing   
styles. Just a thought).   
**She is a saint. She puts up with more bullshit out of me then anyone should have to. She's the one that has to hear all my ideas in their undeveloped stages ("what if I had a lady who was one big yeast infection?" "what if I had a guy named Dr Orifice?" "How about a group of girl scout assassins?") She just rolls her eyes and sighs.**   
** I'll get the children's story properly formatted for the net and post it sometime. Here it is: **[Brother Two-Legs][3]   
Jack Palin was kind of cool. "...One of the nicest guys you would ever   
meet." In other words, you were trying to say that he's "a real pussycat,"   
right? :)   
**I realized that I was six issues in and I had only mentioned one Freak cop. There are more than just Maxine. I'll be introducing more as time goes by. However, I can't write like Erik and have a huge cast. I tend to focus on only a few characters at a time.**   
Looking forward to the next issue, and thanks for the update on DC Beyond   
(on the HEROES message board).   
**No problem. I really dig those guys and want to help them stay visible.**

Merry Christmas,   
C.L. Bishop   
AKA Dragonfly   


**[The Crow: A Sinister Tune][4]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/ARNY.html][4]

**[The Crow: Dark Age][5]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/crowffa/darkage.html][5]

**[The Crow: Leaving the Game][6]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/crowffa/leavingthegame.html][6]

**[Sansker:2200][7]**   
**[Sansker: A Change of Heart (incomplete at this time)][7]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/2200.html][7]

**[Sin City: Postcards from Maui][8]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/sincitypfm.html][8]

**[Sin City: Friends][9]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/sin.html][9]

**[Spawn: 1899][10]**   
[http://angelfire.com/or/bcampo/DORT.html][10]

**[Sansker: Strike of Midnight (only one issue, incomplete)][11]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/strikeofmidnight.html][11]   
  
  


   [1]: mailto:bcampo@hotmail.com
   [2]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html
   [3]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/brothertwolegs.html
   [4]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/ARNY.html
   [5]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/crowffa/darkage.html
   [6]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/crowffa/leavingthegame.html
   [7]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/2200.html
   [8]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/sincitypfm.html
   [9]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/sin.html
   [10]: http://angelfire.com/or/bcampo/DORT.html
   [11]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/strikeofmidnight.html



	9. Default Chapter Title

The Dragon: 2200

# 8

by [Brian Campo][1] (bcampo@hotmail.com)   


**This is a work of fan fiction.** The Savage Dragon and all related characters are owned by Erik Larsen, and I do not contest   
that ownership. This story is in no way official and it should not be taken as such. All characters in this story not owned by Mr.   
Larsen are owned by me, though I would gladly loan them out if asked nicely. 

**Warning:** This story may contain graphic violence, sexual situations and harsh language. If you shouldn't be reading it, don't. 

Visit the Dragon 2200 homepage for back issues and covers ([http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html][2]) 

Maxine stood with one hand shielding her eyes as she watched the armored gunship with the Lone Star flag on it's side circle the Chicago Municipal building. It dropped slowly out of the cloudless sky and angled toward the landing pad that Maxine was standing next to. It's turbines kicked up the wind and had her neck-tie slapping her in the face. She pinned it down over her chest and tried to smile.   
. She was excited and had to fight to keep from fidgeting. She took a quick look down and confirmed that her appearance was just as immaculate as it had been the last time she checked, only a minute before. Even though Monday was her day off, she was dressed in her uniform and it was even more neatly pressed and creased than usual.. This was the first time that her father had seen her since she had left Texas months before, and she wanted him to know that she was succeeding. That she had what it took to be a good cop in the city of Chicago.   
Not that he had ever doubted her. He had instilled a sense of duty and self respect in her when he first took her in as a child and it had stuck with her through the years. She had spent the last nine and a half years trying to make him proud, because anything less would seem like a slap in the face in light of what he had done for her. He had never asked for much from her. Just love and respect. It was Maxine that felt that she had to push herself to earn all that he had done for her. If anything, he sometimes suggested that she was pushing herself too hard. More often than not she proved him wrong and succeeded in whatever endeavor she had undertaken at the time. Failure was not even an option for her.   
The engines on the gunship began to wind down, and the door on the side slid open. Her father, John Armstrong (or as the Americans knew him, SuperPatriot.) stood in the doorway. He gave her a nod of recognition and then stepped back into the ship. He emerged with Paul Heston in tow. Heston was wearing a pair of SS inhibitor cuffs that no doubt were specifically calibrated to negate his powers. Maxine instantly recognized the prisoner as the man who had electrocuted her and nearly killed her early last week. From the look of surprise that crossed his face, it was clear that he recognized Maxine, too.   
"I thought I killed you, pig!" he spat in her direction.   
John gave him a bone rattling shake and said, "That's my daughter you're talking to. You should be quiet." He spoke in a quiet but stern tone. He didn't need to raise his voice. When she was a kid, that tone used to be enough to bring Maxine to tears.   
Paul clamped his mouth shut and looked scared. John dragged him roughly across the landing pad and towards one of the doors leading into the court house. Maxine followed behind them, keeping quiet. She knew that her father was on duty until he turned the prisoner over to the Federal Marshals inside, and that they would have plenty of time to talk when he was done.   
The Marshals inside took custody of Paul and signed the papers that John had brought with him. They stuttered and stammered when they spoke to John, clearly nervous in his presence. SuperPatriot was still very much a legend here in Chicago, remembered for all the times he had saved the city from certain destruction. The fact that he had abandoned the United States for the Texas Republic hadn't diminished his fame or changed people's opinions of him.   
People understood why he left the States behind, and many agreed with him. When Washington surrendered Atlantic City to the Daemonites it had been the last straw for the old soldier. It stank of cowardice, which clashed with his "Never Surrender" way of life. The way John saw it, it was like telling any terrorist group or invading force that the US was a push over for anybody that showed them a little back bone.   
The US military had begun building up around Atlantic City after the Daemonites took over, preparing to go in and clean the place out. At this point, the Daemonites started making claims to being a minority (much like the Vampire Nation had recently tried in Hong Kong). Just the thought that they might be oppressing a minority and the fear of what the voters would think was enough to throw the government into a panic. They started cutting deals and pretty soon the state of New Jersey belonged to a parasitic alien race. The next thing anyone knew, there were reports of death camps in Atlantic City and millions were dead. By the time the military was allowed to intervene, most of the human population in New Jersey were either dead or being used as host bodies for the Daemonites.   
Public opinion turned against the current administration and the government finally decided to let the military deal with the situation. After a short campaign in Jersey, the Daemonites were rooted out and killed, but in John's opinion it was too little, too late. He had seen the United States fail it's own people one too many times and he wasn't going to put up with it anymore. He packed what little he owned and headed to the recently seceded Republic of Texas. He had remained there for the last twenty three years. While many had wished he had stayed, no one held it against him that he left.   
The Marshals thanked John for his help and then escorted Paul Heston down the hall. John stood and watched them for a moment, and then he turned to his daughter.   
"Hello, Maxine." he said.   
She gave him a smile as she stepped close and wrapped her arms around his metal frame. "I missed you, daddy."   
He patted the back of her head affectionately but did not return her embrace. After all these years, he was still not comfortable giving someone a hug using his cyborg body. When Maxine released him and took a step back a few seconds later he dropped his hand to his side. "You look good, Maxine. Chicago must be agreeing with you."   
"Well," she said with a grin. "we've had a _few_ disagreements. I'm bringing it around to my way of thinking, though."   
He laughed, emitting a strange electronic barking sound that had a way of disturbing some people. She was used to it, and laughed with him.   
"Let's go somewhere where we can talk." said Maxine.   
"I'd like that." said John. 

"I want my lawyer." Paul snarled at the two marshals.   
"You get your lawyer after we get you booked." said one of the marshals. " In the meantime, Shaddup."   
They ran him past the desk sergeant, getting his fingerprints and pictures. The fingerprints were tricky, as they had to get them while he was still wearing his cuffs. There was no way that they were going to take those things off. They had him bend over and hold his hands out flat while they ran the hand scanner over the ends of his fingers. When they were finished there they escorted him to his cell. Paul was pushed inside and the door was slammed shut. They yanked on the door a couple of times to make sure it had latched securely and then turned to walk away.   
"Hey!" shout Paul. "Wait."   
"What." asked the Marshall.   
"What about the cuffs? Aren't you going to take them off?"   
"I could, but we'd have to knock you out until the end of the your hearing." said the Marshall before he left Paul alone. This was only a holding cell. They didn't have the security here to control a Freak with access to his powers. Paul was going to live in those cuffs until the judge decided what they were going to do with him.   
The Marshals went back their desks and finished up the paper work for Paul, making sure that they hadn't missed something. It wouldn't be the first time that a crook had got off the hook because of a misspelling on a extradition paper. Each document was checked and double checked by both men, making it near impossible for some little mistake to get past them. When they were finished, all of the papers were date stamped by the computer and then put into a manilla envelope that was also date stamped. They were just sealing it closed when they heard a scream from the direction of the holding cells   
They were on their feet in an instant, racing for the cells. As they closed in on Paul's cell they saw the prisoner inside get thrown forcefully against the bars. Blood splattered out into the hallway. Paul had an expression of terror on his face.   
"Help." he pleaded, one of his arms reaching through the bars toward them.   
They were coming up in front of the cell now and were shocked to see a man mounted on horseback in the six by nine cell with Paul. The man raised what looked like a broken saber above his head and sliced at Paul with it. Paul's head banged forward against the bars and then flipped backwards, no longer attached to his neck. Paul's body slumped, still held up by the arm that was sticking through the bars.   
The two marshall's pulled their guns and took aim at the horseman. The intruder charged forward at them, passing through Paul's body and the steel bars. The next thing they knew, he was in the hallway with them. He turned the horse expertly, using it's weight and size to throw them out of the way. The horse turned towards the doors leading out of the building and took off at a run. Both Marshals opened fire, filling the hallway with the loud roar of their weapons. If any of the shots hit home, the horseman showed no sign. He kept going and disappeared through the closed doors. 

The sound of gunfire grabbed Maxine and John's attention, making them look across the street towards the courthouse. A moment later, a man on horseback materialized out of one of the doors leading into the court house. The horse spun in a couple of circles, as if the rider was trying to decide what direction it should go. The two marshals who had taken Paul Heston earlier shoved their way out the double doors behind the rider, firing their guns. He jerked in his saddle, as if he had been hit.   
Maxine was halfway across the street before she realized that she was reacting to this situation. "What am I thinking?" she thought in a panicked voice. "I'm not even armed."   
John ran past her, his arm forming into a machine cannon. Maxine grabbed him by the crook of his arm and shouted, "No, Dad!"   
He turned and focused his lenses on her, looking at her like she was insane. "What do you think you're doing, Maxine? A criminal is getting away."   
"This isn't your jurisdiction." said Maxine. " No matter what he's done, if you catch him he'll walk."   
John stared at her for a moment and then he let his arm change back to normal. "Well, you better hurry." he told her. "He's getting away."   
He was right. The horseman had taken off and was already to the end of the block. She sprinted after it but realized after a few seconds that this wasn't going to work. There was no way she was going to catch up to a horse running on foot. Sirens blared behind her, and she turned to see a patrol car speeding toward her, in hot pursuit of the horseman. She waved her arms frantically and the car slid up next to her. She yanked the passenger side door off of it's hinges and jumped in.   
"Go! Go!" she shouted at the driver. "Follow that horse!"   
The driver, a young african american woman, was naturally shocked by Maxine's actions. She took a couple of seconds to pull her wits together and then she threw the car into drive and punched the gas. The car fishtailed and then shot forward, quickly accelerating. The car door was left spinning in the middle of the street.   
"Get me right up over him." Maxine told the girl. The driver nodded in response, skillfully maneuvering the car through the traffic and closer to the fleeing horseman. Maxine leaned out of the open doorway, blinking at the wind that was blasting her in the face. Only about two car lengths separated them from the rider. They were drawing closer with every second.   
The rider was hunched forward in his saddle and giving his horse all of it's reign. This was top speed for them. Maxine was right over them now, with only one foot still in the car and only one hand hanging on to the roof of the car. Trying not to think of what would happen if she missed, she jumped out of the car.   
She landed on the horse behind the rider. The horse stumbled when her weight dropped on it, momentarily loosing it's gait. A second later it recovered and was moving forward at a run. Maxine reached forward, wrapped her arm around the rider's throat, and jerked him back. He slammed his head back, cracking it into her nose. She felt the cartilage in her nose crunch and her eyes watered from the pain. She used her free hand to deliver two solid kidney punches to the rider, blows that the horse seemed to feel, too. It faltered and threatened to fall. The horse came to a stop and began to turn in circles, responding to the confusing messages coming from the rider.   
"I'm not afraid of you." Maxine heard the rider say. He reached for the sword hanging on his belt. She grabbed his arm and jerked it back, keeping his blade out of reach. He twisted his arm, trying to make her loose her grip. With his other hand he yanked the horse's reign to the left, turning it toward a building. He jammed the spurs on his feet into the horse's side, goading it forward. It raced forward toward the building. As they got closer to the brick wall, Maxine got a strange feeling, like she was flying. Like the horse was no longer solid beneath her. Like she was moving forward on her own momentum. The horse and rider passed through the solid wall of the building, but Maxine ran right smack into the cement. A moment later she fell, hitting the ground on her back.   
"Owwwwwww." she moaned.   
Her already sore nose had been hit again. Unsteadily, she got to her feet and wiped at the blood draining from her nostrils with her sleeve. To her left she spotted the door leading into the building. She went through the doors, finding herself in some kind of office building. The employees were in a panic, many of them hiding behind their desks. It was clear that the rider had been this way.   
"Which way did he go?" she asked them. They all pointed towards the back of the building. She ran that way and kept asking the same question. People kept pointing farther back. She kept going and exited through a back door. She found herself in a alley with a couple of dumpsters full of shredded paper. The sound of hoof beats to her left drew her attention, and she saw the horseman making tracks for the mouth of the alley. Another twenty feet and he was going to be in the open street.   
Maxine stepped out into the alley and grabbed the side of one of the dumpsters. She gave it a yank and hefted it into the air. With a "graugh!!" she pivoted, swinging the dumpster up and over her. She pitched it like you would pitch a baseball. The dumpster clanged down the alley, clonking off of the walls and crashing through a fire escape. It hit the ground on one corner, ricocheted and bounced back up into the air. It slammed into the back of the horse and rider, hitting them hard enough to stop them in their tracks.   
The horse stumbled, looking like it was going weak in the knees. It stumbled to the side and fell against the wall of the building. They started to loose their solidity, going blurry and transparent. Then, with a shudder, they dissolved. In their place was left a naked man.   
He looked like he was in his mid twenties, very skinny with a pale complexion and black hair. He was on his knees , trying to use the wall next to him to help him get to his feet.   
Maxine just stood there for a moment staring at him. What ever she had thought would happen when she threw the dumpster, that wasn't it. She shook herself out of her trance and started down the alley towards the man.   
He got to his feet and struggled to find his balance. Still leaning against the wall for support he turned toward her and watched her as she came closer.   
"He's not you enemy, Miss Chalmers, and neither am I"   
"Who are you?" asked Maxine. "And what do you have to do with all of this?"   
"I am the Phantom Master." he told her. "I control him."   
"Nice costume. You're under arrest."   
"You haven't caught me yet." he said. He pushed himself out away from the wall, getting steadier now. "And why would you want to? We're helping you. Don't tell me that anyone is going to miss the people we've killed."   
"We don't need that kind of help. You're a murderer and you make me sick. Are you going to come along peacefully or do I have to beat you into the ground?"  
In answer, the man took a martial arts pose. Max gritted her teeth and cursed under breath. She was hoping that he would go peacefully. She really didn't want to do any hand to hand fighting with a naked man. There was nothing more awkward then throwing down with a naked opponent. It didn't seem to bother him at all. He just stood there with all of his bits and pieces hanging out in the open, ready to take her on.   
Max skipped forward, bring her hands up to block any blows her might try to launch at her. When she was still five feet away from him, he lashed out with his right arm. She didn't know what he was doing at first, she was still well out of swinging range. Then she felt something grab the front of her shirt. She looked down, and could see nothing there. Her shirt was bunched up, though, like an invisible hand was grabbing it. Then she was flying to the side and slamming into the wall. The naked man had thrown her in pantomime at the same time. He threw a punch with left hand and she felt a sharp crack on the right side of her head.   
Max scrambled to her feet and jumped again at the naked man. He threw a forward kick into the air and Maxine took an invisible blow on the chin. He reached out with both hands and made claw shapes with them. Maxine felt something grab her forearms. He threw his head forward violently and Maxine's nose broke again. Her arms were released and she stumbled back wards, barely able to get her eyes open. They kept crossing, and she couldn't focus on her opponent.   
"We're not that different, you and I." she heard him say. " I saw you that day, the day when you tried to arrest Paul Heston. You weren't too gentle with him. I wonder how close you were to doing what I do." He paused for a moment. "I wonder why you got so angry. It was those kids in their chains. They really made you mad, didn't they? Perhaps we have more in common than I thought. Perhaps, you too were raised surrounded by bars, chains and bad men."   
Max blinked the tears out of her watering eyes and glared at the blurry shape of the naked man.   
"Struck a chord, have I?" There was a hint of a chuckle in his voice. He crouched down and then jumped into the air. His leap took him twenty five feet into the air onto the remains of the fire escape Maxine had destroyed earlier. He clambered up the rickety metal steps, making his way to the roof.   
"Think about what I said." he called down to her. She watched him disappear over the top of the building and knew that there was no way she could catch up with him. She leaned back against the alley wall and then let herself slide to the ground. She wore a scowl on her face. She really hated it when they got away.   
  
"I let him get away." she said to her father when she got back to the court house. A couple of cops had offered to drive her the mile back but she had turned them down, opting instead to walk the distance and allow herself to cool off. By the time she got back to where John was waiting for her she wasn't so angry anymore. Just a little depressed. She had wanted to prove herself to him and she had failed horribly.   
"They get away sometimes." said John. "You'll get another chance. From what you've told me, this guy is a repeat offender. I doubt he'll stop now. You'll get him next time."   
"You never let them get away." she said. "You always get your man."   
"I wish that were true. I've had them slip off the hook, too. Besides, there's a couple hundred years of experience on my side. You've only been doing this for a few months. You're going to be a great cop, Maxine, but it takes time."   
This was starting to feel a little too much like the lectures he gave her when she was a teen. She changed the subject. "When do you have to be back?"   
"We're supposed to leave here in half an hour." said John. "You know how it is. There's always work to do when you're a Ranger."   
She pouted that he had to leave so soon. "I wish we had more time."   
"You could always take some time off and come down to Texas and visit sometime. Daphne asks about you all of the time."   
"Maybe I'll do that in a couple of months. It would be nice to see every body on the base again."   
"Do you have many friends up here?"   
"A few." she said. "My partner is a good guy. He runs his mouth a lot, but he's got a good heart. I live with his mom and she's very sweet to me."   
"You have anybody special?"   
Max smiled. "There's someone. He's a police photographer." She was already starting to forget about loosing her perp earlier. It was just nice to be talking to her dad again, just like old times.   
"Does he treat you well?"   
"I wouldn't be with him if he didn't. You know that, dad."   
"When do I get to meet him?" asked John.   
"Maybe I'll bring him to Texas with me when I come. You have to promise to behave yourself, though. No Terminator impressions or anything."   
"You're boyfriends never have any sense of humor."   
"They might think it's funny if they knew it was a joke first. I think they miss the joke when they have to change thier pants. Promise me, Dad."   
"I promise that I'll be good." he told her.   
"Then I'll put in for some time off in a couple of months."   
They continued to talk until it was time for John to leave. She walked him back to the gunship and gave him a hug before he could get on board.   
"Thank you." she told him.   
"What for?" he asked.   
"Everything. Everything you've ever done for me."   
"Max, honey, by being my daughter you've repaid me a thousand times over. Any man with you for a daughter could consider himself the luckiest man in the world."   
She held onto him for a little longer, resting her head on his broad metal chest plate. She could hear his mechanical heart pumping away in there and it reminded her of those first nights when he had brought her home. The nightmares she suffered had been so bad and she was so scared of being alone that she would sneak into his room where he sat recharging. She would crawl up into his lap and fall alseep with her head on his chest, listening to his heart pump.   
Reluctantly, she let him go. He told her good bye and then walked up the ramp to the gunship. A minute later, the gunship lifted off and turned south. She waved as it disappeared into the distance. 

That night, Janet shook Maxine and woke her up.   
"There's someone at the door for you." she said.   
Maxine blinked her eyes, trying to wake up. "What time is it?"   
'A quarter to two." said Janet. She looked as tired as Maxine felt.   
Max crawled out of bed and grabbed a robe from the hook on the back of her bedroom door. "Did they say what they want?"   
"No. They look very serious, though. They also look like military."   
That scared her. Had something happened to her father? She walked to the front door and opened it up, afraid of what she might hear. There were three men standing out there, all of them dressed in uniforms. The twin lightning bolts on thier shoulder patches said that they were United Nations men. Why would they send United Nations people if something had happened to her dad?   
"Maxine Chalmers?" said the man in front.   
"Yes?"   
"We were sent to ask for your help."   
  
Half an hour later she was dressed and came out the front door putting on her jacket. The men had inisted that she come with them. Because of security concerns, they did not feel comfortable discussing thier business in front of Janet. Maxine had gotten dressed as fast as she could and rushed out the door. Two of the men were already sitting in the front of their car, and the third was holding the back door open for her. She got in and slid all the way over, making room for him to get in, too. The driver started the car and they lifted off into the air.   
"I'd like to know what this is about, now." said Max.   
The man in the passenger seat turned around so he could look at her. "What I am about to say to you is confidential. You are to tell no one. Do you understand?"   
She nodded.   
"Are you aware of the situation in Hong Kong? (Sansker 2200: A Change of Heart...read it.)"   
"With the vampires?" asked Maxine.   
"That's right. The UN made the decision tonight that we are going to stop that situation. We have been instructed to list our nations strongest SPB's (super powered beings) and choose from that list the individuals that would best fit our needs. You are on that list. We are asking for your help."   
"Why me? There are lots more stronger people around here. Mr Wonderful for one."   
" He's a very nice man, but we're looking for someone who is more of a thinker, if you catch my meaning. You have a good record going with the police, you have a good scholastic record and though it's not common knowledge, we are aware of who your father is. We feel you would benefit our mission greatly, Miss Chalmers."   
"What are we going to be doing?"   
"Irradicating the Vampire Threat in Hong Kong."   
Max looked out the window while she thought about it, watching the lights of the city speeding by below her. "Are we going to kill them?"   
"We will do whatever we have to do to nuetralize the threat. If they end it peacefully, we will be content with arresting the leaders. If they fight us, we are instructed to show no mercy."   
She thought about her father and the daemonites in Atlantic City. What would he have done if he was in her place. She realized that she already knew the answer.   
"I'll do it." she said.   


* * *

  
_**~Fin-Fan-Fic-Fanatics~**Letters and comments from readers. Do I rock or do I suck? Write me and tell me what you think. If you don't want your comments put in this letters column, or if you want them taken out, please let me know._****

**After a bunch of procrastinating, rewrites and writers block, Dragon 2200 # 8 is finally out. And I've yanked most of my hair out. I have this file I keep of all the stuff I edit out and rewrite and it double in size this time around. I'm finally happy with the direction I'm taking it. I've always wanted to finish off my Sansker 2200 series and this will be my opportunity to do that.**   
** Here be the letters:******

The Doc   
Man, dude, I gotta say. I was hella impressed by your story. This's my first time reading them, and I only got to issue 3, but i'll be sure to finish the rest soon. I wasn't sure what to expect at first, but your elaborately descriptive passages drew me in pretty quickly. I mean, who else takes time to describe a dude talking with his mouth full, and spitting out fragments of pickle, bread, and what have yee? Pretty awesome, man. Makes me wanna get on the ball and finally get my own 'Children of the Hourglass' yarn up 'n' runnin'.

The Laboratory (Home of the aforementioned children.)

**As always, it's cool to hear from a new reader. Those first few issues, I spent a lot of time developing the personalities for the main characters of the series. I see so many fan fic series that people write that are justreally skeletal when it comes to characters. I figure, let you get to know these people and you will care all the more when big things happen to them. It seems to be a formula that works. Thanks for the kind words, drop by again.**

You know, even though you said you hate drawing the covers to issue 1 and 3 weren't half bad.   
The Former Forum Art Critic   
  
**Man, do I hate drawing. It's one of the most frustrating things in my life (aside from the five year old). The reason the first cover looks so good is because I had the help of inker and colorist extrordinare Sheldon Parsons. He is a kick ass artist in his own right and puts me to shame with everything he draws. You can see his art [here][3]. If you want to see the rest of my artwork, go [here][4]. I have a bunch of photomanips, quite a few drawings and some wallpapers in there.******

hey there, dude. 

Ya know, I hate fan fic stuff more than anything. I dunno, it's just always....really bad. I'm   
not much of a reader, either. Never have been. I'm more of a visual guy, I guess. You've had   
this little Dragon thing going on for quite a while and I've always supported it even though I   
never read it. Well, today I decided to read it for the first time. I just finished reading the   
intro deal and I gotta tell you--I am impressed. I printed out the first issue so I can read it   
in my leisure time. It's just a lot of fun, it reads really smooth and it's Dragon related! It's   
a winner. Folks have been going on about it for a long time now, but I JUST now got around to   
start reading it. I like it a lot. Which says a lot because I hate everything :^) I suppose   
that's about it. 

I wish you nothing but the best. 

--Mark 

**Thank you. The majority of the fan fic is pretty bad but there are quite a few jewels out there. I hope this series continues to impress you. Thanks again.**   


While there was something oddly familiar about the beginning, with the   
children telling what they wanted in the story, I totally did not see   
the ending coming, where grandma and grandpa turn out to be Skylar and   
Fen. After I read it, though, that seemed familiar, too. Not a   
complaint- supposedly, there's only about 19 plots you could ever choose   
from (or 11, or 7, or 3, depending on who you ask). You seem to have   
knack for tapping into plots or themes that are very familiar; even if   
you can't quite remember where you've heard them before. Kudos. 

**Maybe stuff seems so familiar because of the way I get inspired by stuff I read and watch. When I read a book or watch a movie I'm always thinking, If I were the one making this, I would have done this or that differently. Stories, characters and plots spring from that. Brother Two Legs was inspired by a combination of The Talisman, Beauty and the Beast, Discworld, and a hundred other things.**

Similar to the "real pussycat" comment, in my last e-mail, concerning   
Dragon 2200 #6, it seems you've characterized another idiom in Fen- a   
young, male lyncanthrop in a wool pullover? Can you say "wolf in   
sheep's clothing?" Ha! LOL! I love a good play-on-words; especially   
if you can make a good character out of it. Very cool, Mr. Campo. 

**These things aren't intentional, but they crack me up when you pick them out.**

One other thing: I thought you'd said that you and your wife were   
working on the children's story? Sooo... how come only your name graces   
the by-line, chum? Just wondering. Not fishing for a name or anything,   
but even us bachelors know that you don't miss a chance to give your   
significant other credit where credit is due. :>) 

**Because I wrote the story. She used her arts and crafts skills to make the actual books. The actual books give her credit. I wouldn't steal her credit. (cause I'm afraid of her. She's mean like that.) Her name is Dott.******

Anyway, on to D2200 #7: Cool. Jumped right into things... right into   
the sack... right into action... just right into it. I was disappointed   
that you didn't get to the part about Heston meeting the ghost again,   
but I'll be back for more. And of course, that's the intention, isn't   
it? Yes, indeedy. Well, it's gettin' long, so I better jet. Later,   
and kudos on both stories. 

Sincerely,   
C.L. Bishop 

**As you know by now, Heston and the ghost did meet again, and Heston met his end. (I say the dirty bugger deserved it.) Thanks for writing. I appreciate it.**   
  


**[The Crow: A Sinister Tune][5]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/ARNY.html][5]

**[The Crow: Dark Age][6]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/crowffa/darkage.html][6]

**[The Crow: Leaving the Game][7]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/crowffa/leavingthegame.html][7]

**[Sansker:2200][8]**   
**[Sansker: A Change of Heart (incomplete at this time)][8]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/2200.html][8]

**[Sin City: Postcards from Maui][9]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/sincitypfm.html][9]

**[Sin City: Friends][10]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/sin.html][10]

**[Spawn: 1899][11]**   
[http://angelfire.com/or/bcampo/DORT.html][11]

**[Sansker: Strike of Midnight (only one issue, incomplete)][12]**   
[http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/strikeofmidnight.html][12]   
  


   [1]: mailto:bcampo@hotmail.com
   [2]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html
   [3]: http://www.fortunecity.com/westwood/vivienne/1103/kilgor.html
   [4]: http://www.fortunecity.com/westwood/vivienne/1103/vibrat.html
   [5]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/ARNY.html
   [6]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/crowffa/darkage.html
   [7]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/crowffa/leavingthegame.html
   [8]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/2200.html
   [9]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/sincitypfm.html
   [10]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/sin.html
   [11]: http://angelfire.com/or/bcampo/DORT.html
   [12]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/strikeofmidnight.html



	10. Default Chapter Title

The Dragon: 2200

# 9

by [Brian Campo][1] (bcampo@hotmail.com)   


**This is a work of fan fiction.** The Savage Dragon and all related characters are owned by Erik Larsen, and I do not contest   
that ownership. This story is in no way official and it should not be taken as such. All characters in this story not owned by Mr.   
Larsen are owned by me, though I would gladly loan them out if asked nicely. 

John Sansker is owned either by Alan Moore or TMP productions, I don't know which. Anyway, he's not mine and I don't think that he is. Blah, Blah, Blah. . . 

**Warning:** This story may contain graphic violence, sexual situations and harsh language. If you shouldn't be reading it, don't. 

Visit the Dragon 2200 home page for back issues and covers ([http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html][2]) 

**Vampire Nation: A Dragon/Sansker 2200 crossover.**

**Southern France-** The bright lights of the transport cut through the rainy night, illuminating the hills and fields it was speeding over. The wind was kicking up something fierce and the little hovercraft was rocked from side to side with the force of the blasts. It was not a good night for traveling, but the two men inside had little choice in the matter.   
You see, John Sansker didn't have a lot of time left to live. His heart had been stolen from him by one of his employees and it had been transplanted into the other man's chest. _(Don't make me explain all of this, just go read the [Sansker 2200 and Sansker: A Change of Heart series][3])_ A "friend" of his down in New Orleans had used a voodoo ceremony and the heart of a rat to give him some time, but it wasn't a lot. Come hell or bad weather, he had to be taking steps to reclaim his heart, or he was one dead vampire.   
"We're coming up on it, sir." said the driver.   
John looked out the windshield and spotted the lights from the Chateau St. Claire, his one permanent place of residence over the last one thousand years. Although there had been many additions made in the last four hundred years, it still looked very much like the original castle that he had lived in back in the eleven hundreds. With the condition of the residence and the prime vineyard land surrounding it, the property was worth a little less than two billion dollars.   
It was maintained year round by a small family who worked there for room, board and a healthy salary. The same family had worked for him for thirteen generations, handing down the job from father to son. They were well aware of his vampiric nature but they were old school butlers and servants who believed what the master did was his business and his alone. He didn't visit the castle very often and when he wasn't there, most of the house was there for their own use.   
The driver lowered the transport towards one of the estate's large lawns, avoiding the fruit trees and topiary. "Sorry to park you out so far, sir." the driver said to John. "With this wind I'm afraid to fly any closer to the house."   
"Don't worry about it." said John. "This will be just fine. I may be a couple of hours, so you might as well shut this thing down and try to get some sleep."   
"Yes, sir." said the pilot. He started flipping off switches and letting the hovercraft engines wind down. With a electronic whir, the ramp lowered, and John stepped out of the transport. As he walked up through the rain towards the front door of the house, the ramp closed behind him. Motion detectors turned on bright spotlights before he got halfway across the yard, illuminating his path. When he reached the front doors he pushed the doorbell and was answered a moment later by Christian, a butler in his sixties.   
(note: ~ indicates that the dialogue is translated from French. Yeah, like I know french.)   
~Mister St. Claire! Welcome home. We did not know you would be arriving this evening.~   
~Last minute plans, I am afraid~ said John ~How are things, Christian?~   
~Very good, sir. The power went out earlier but we have a generator going so everything is just fine. We were having some wonderful soup for dinner. Would you like some?~ The butler helped John out of his rain soaked jacket which he draped neatly over his arm.   
~Thank you, but no. However, I would like a bottle of Hemovin '78 brought over to the east wing where I will be working for the next several hours. After that I do not want to be disturbed. Please tell the others to stay out of that part of the house, too.~  
~But of course, sir.~ said the butler. ~Anything else?~   
~No, that will be all, Christian. Thank you.~   
The butler gave him a nod, spun on his heel and headed straight for the cellar.   
John made his way to the east wing of the house, and went into the library. Not wanting to waste any time, he got right down to business and started pulling books off of shelves and moving furniture to accommodate his plans. 

Two hours later he was ready. The library was now lit by the twenty or so candles that John had placed around the room, leaving it dim, but still bright enough to see by. All of the furniture had been removed with the exception of two chairs and a small table that were now placed in the center of the library. On top of the table there was a table cloth, two candles and a large piece of poster board that had strange, arcane symbols drawn on it. John sat in one of the chairs with a wine glass in one hand and a book on summoning devils in the other. He was reading from the book and making sure that he remembered the ritual correctly. He referred to the book one last time, and then checked the poster board to make sure everything was perfect. Satisfied that he had done everything right, he closed the book and sat both it and the wine glass on the floor beside him. He placed his fingers on the center of the poster board, took a deep breath and spoke two words.   
"Pudervrag, come."   
John waited for a moment until he felt a familiar tingling sensation on the back of his neck and then he sat back in his chair. Relax, he told himself. He could do this. He could do this. He repeated that phrase to himself several times as he reached down and retrieved his wine glass from the floor.   
A few minutes later the air turned static and a devil in a loose fitting suit stepped out of no where. The air in front of John just turned dark for a moment and then the devil was striding into the room. It was one of your classic demons, with red skin and small horns on it's forehead. His clothes were in the style of the old american west and he wore a gunbelt with two six shooters around his waist. The devil looked around the room, no doubt checking for traps. Apparently satisfied, he turned to John.   
"You request an audience with Mr. Pudervrag?" he asked.   
"Yes, I do." said John.   
"Pertaining to what?"   
John took a sip from his wine, hoping that he could keep his voice from cracking with fear when he said the next sentence. "I would like to sell my soul." he said.   
The devil stared at him for a moment, studying his face. "Very well." he said. "I shall go get him."   
He took a step backwards and the same spot of darkness appeared and swallowed him up. It was another minute before he reappeared. This time he was with another devil who was similarly dressed and a third devil who John recognized.   
"Pudervrag." he said. He tipped his head in respect.   
Pudervrag was tall, nearly seven feet in fact. He sported a long horn mustache and his skin was like a hard, tanned leather. John knew that he had horns but they were hidden beneath the cowboy hat on top of his head. He could almost have passed for human if you didn't look at him from the waist down. He had the body of a goat down there. Pudervrag was very sensitive about this and tried to hide it with very loose fitting trousers and a pair of specially made cowboy boots.. It didn't work. When he walked it was clear that there was something very wrong with him.   
The devil removed his hat and sat down in the chair opposite of John. His two bodyguards took up positions behind him, relaxed but ready to leap into action at a moment's notice.   
"Now, Mr. Midnight," said Pudervrag. " what's this I hear about you wanting to sell your soul?" His voice slithered.   
"I go by the name Sansker now." said John.   
Pudervrag chuckled and shook his head. "You and all your silly names." said the devil. "I never could keep up with them. Very well, Sansker it is. What can I do for you?"   
"I've lost my speed and my strength. Without them I will not be able to recover the heart I recently had stolen from me and I will surely die. I am willing to sell you my soul in return for what you have given a hundred gunfighters before me. Superhuman speed."   
Pudervrag stared at him. "You realize how unbelievable that all sounds, don't you?"   
"Yes, sir." said John. "Unfortunately it's all true."   
"And why should I want to keep you from dying?" asked the devil.   
"Because you've been after my soul for over four hundred years. If I get killed right now it's up for grabs. Anyone could end up with it, Malebolgia, Archapedrix, Charnelwind, hell, even heaven could claim it if they were so inclined. If you make a deal with me it's yours. You probably won't even have to wait that long until you can take possession of it. The fact of the matter is that even if you do help me there's a good chance that I will still be killed in the next couple of days. I don't have any of my regenerative powers so it would only take one bullet to kill me. Make a deal with me and in as little as two days you could have the most cold blooded son of a bitch that ever lived leading your army."   
It looked like Pudervrag liked the sound of that. However, this was John Sansker he was dealing with, so naturally, he was still suspicious. "You seem confident that you will live, though. Why is that?"   
"I'm just optimistic to a fault, that's all." said John. "I'm keeping in mind that I could fail, though. If anyone is going to own me for all eternity it might as well be you."   
"Why is that?" asked the devil. "You've always hated me."   
"You're the devil I know." said John. "You may be a vile piece of shit, but you're a predictable vile piece of shit. If I have to work for you forever then I know what I'm getting into. Somebody else gets me and I could end up doing handstands in neck deep shit until the end of time. You know what I am capable of and you'll put me to good use. The way I see it, at least I won't be bored."   
"It just all sounds too easy." said Pudervrag. "I've been after you for so long and now you just want to hand your soul over to me? What is it that you are not telling me?"   
"Hey, the last thing I want to do is give you my soul. But I'm up against a wall here and I'm out of options. It's either work with you and take my chances or just sit down and wait to die. You know me. I'd never be the kind to just sit and wait to die. Now, I don't want to be rude, but I'm kind of in a hurry. Do you want to make a deal or not?"   
Pudervrag stared at him and weighed his options carefully. John could tell from the look on his face that he was thinking this out, trying to see all the angles. After a few more moments he came to a decision. "Very well." he said. "Orville, the contract."   
One of the devils standing behind him reached into his jacket and retrieved a neatly folded piece of paper, a bottle of dark red colored ink, and a feather pen. Pudervrag took them from him and sat them on the table. He opened up the paper, revealing that it was a contract. It was your standard satanic contract, the paper made from human skin, the words printed in blood. It listed the terms of the deal in large letters at the top and a bunch more stuff in microscopic fine print at the bottom.   
Pudervrag slid the contract across the table to John and said, "Sign here, here, and here."   
John borrowed the devil's pen and signed his name in all the appropriate places. He slid the contract back to Pudervrag, who signed it also. Orville took the contract when he was done and blotted it before folding it up and putting it back in his pocket. Pudervrag reached across the table and put a hand on each side of John's head.   
"I give to you the gift of speed." he said, and a jolt of power shot through his hands and into John's body. John shouted in pain and convulsed. His body went rigid and he ended up falling over backwards onto the floor.   
Time slowed down for him. As he hit the floor he saw his wine glass begin to topple over. Before he realized that he was doing it, his hand snapped out and caught the glass. He was a blur.   
"Oh, yes." he said. He almost felt like he was back to normal. In a flash he was back on his feet and standing in front of Pudervrag. He moved so quickly that he spooked the two bodyguards and they reached nervously for their guns. "Relax, boys," he told them. "I'm just trying this thing out."   
He grabbed the edge of the table cloth in front of him and yanked it off the table with a loud snap. The poster board and candles remained in the respective positions, unmoved. He giggled with delight. "Something bigger." he said. He paced around the room, looking for some better test of his speed.   
He looked down and said, "A-ha!"   
Pudervrag started to protest as John reached down and grabbed the edge of the rug that covered the center of the wooden floor.   
"Don't worry." said John. "I can do this."   
The devil looked down and saw that the rug went underneath his chair. "Look," he said. "I don't think that's such a go-"   
John yanked the rug out from under them with a snap. Pudervrag kept his seat and his two men kept their feet. The devil sighed with relief.   
"Uh, oh." said John. He was still looking at the floor. Pudervrag glanced down and a look of horror leapt onto his face. Where the rug had been had been arcane symbols had been carved into the wooden floor. A pentagram, a goat's head, all the symbols required for binding a devil. And Pudervrag was sitting right in the middle of it. He was trapped there, unable to step out of the circle or to escape back to hell.   
John started to laugh   
"You son of a bitch." said Pudervrag. "You are going to undo this right now, do you understand me?" He ended the sentence with a shout.   
Ignoring him, John turned his back and walked over to one of the book shelves. He selected a book from the shelf and opened it, revealing it's hollowed out center and a large, silver, automatic pistol.   
"Kill him." said Pudervrag. "Now!" He sounded panicked, urgent.   
His men went for their guns. John grabbed the automatic out of the book and spun toward the devils. The devil's guns roared but John was crossing the room in front of them, too fast to draw a bead on. John opened fire with the automatic and the two body guards took rounds in their heads and chests. Green blood and brain matter splattered the walls and bookshelves behind them. They fell in unison and hit the floor with a thump.   
Pudervrag looked like he was still trying to figure out where everything had gone wrong. All he could manage to say was, "But . . .but. . . but"   
John walked to the edge of the symbols on the floor and said. "Funny how things turn out, isn't it? You were thinking, 'Finally! After all these years I have him!' " John laughed at the devil, a sly, malicious chuckle.   
The devil let out a shuddering gasp. "I'm not armed, John. You wouldn't kill an unarmed man, would you?"   
In reply, John started to sing. "If you don't know me by now, you will never, ever, ever know me." He raised the gun and put three rounds between Pudervrag's eyes and two more in his heart.   
He sat the gun on the edge of a shelf as he left the room and headed back for the front door of the mansion. Christian met him there with a dry jacket and an umbrella.   
~Leaving so soon, sir?~   
~I have pressing business.~ said John. ~There's a mess in the library that needs to be cleaned up and the floor needs to be refinished. Please have that taken care of, won't you, Christian?~   
~But of course, sir~ said the butler.   
~Thank you.~ John told him. He took the umbrella from Christian and stepped back out into the rain. He thought he might try to get a little sleep on the transport. He doubted that he would get another chance for a long while to come. 

**On board the USS Majestic, just off the coast of Hong Kong, four nights later-** From her desk in the back Maxine watched the twenty or so other super powered beings gathered in the briefing room and couldn't help but smile. In a crowd like this, she realized, she didn't really stand out that much. Anywhere else in the world her green skin and fin might draw some attention, but in a room filled with armored cyborgs, flamboyantly dressed vigilantes and military superfreaks no one gave her a second glance.   
According to the UN the men and women in this room were the best of the best. They had all been hand picked by the same people who had recruited Maxine for this mission. Each of these people had been selected not only for their powers and fighting skills but also for their intelligence and their ability to think in an intense situation. Both powerful and responsible, these SPB's were media darlings in their respective hometowns and were respected by their local law enforcement. Every one of them had shown in the past that they could take orders and work well with authority.   
Collectively, they were the UN's answer to the Vampire threat in Hong Kong. They had all volunteered to help with the UN invasion because they believed that what was going on in Hong Kong was wrong and because they wanted to be a part of bringing it to an end.   
So far, the military had not revealed to them exactly what their roles in the invasion would be. A veil of secrecy had been thrown over the whole mission and every time Maxine had asked about it she had been told that she would know what she needed to know when she needed to know. Apparently the time for her to know had finally come tonight. At a little after eighteen hundred hours a message had been sent out over the intercom instructing all the SPB's to gather in the briefing room.. On her way to the briefing room Maxine had observed that the entire crew of the Majestic was hustling and bustling, preparing planes, gunships, and drop ships for action. All this activity lead her to believe that something very big was about to happen. They were finally going to see some action. She was glad. All of this waiting was killing her.   
Maxine saw a group of officers entering the room and she quickly sat up straight in her chair. One of them headed for the podium at the front with a stack of papers while another set up an easel and a bunch of poster boards with maps and diagrams printed on them. The rest of the men sat in some chairs lined up along the wall at the front of the room.   
"Good evening." said the man at the podium. "My name is Colonel David Tibbets. It's my duty to inform you that we will be invading Hong Kong in less than an hour and to let you know what your part in that will be.   
Your mission is to locate and capture the leaders of the vampire nation. You will meet up with a lot of hostiles on your way into Hong Kong. You are to use whatever force necessary to defend yourself. But remember, your targets are the leaders, not the troops. Avoid skirmishes with them if at all possible.   
At the same time that you are being inserted into Hong Kong we will be dropping human troops all over the city. They are there to support you and to distract the Vampire army while you make your way to the leaders. Be aware that there may be friendlies around you, so be sure of what you are aiming at before you pull the trigger.   
There will also be bombing runs made by our planes. We've selected sites all over the city that house anti-aircraft weaponry and we will be bombing them through out the night. These sites are marked on your maps so make sure you steer clear of them.  
Now, here's how we are getting you into the city."   
His aide removed a map from the easel and revealed the next poster board in the stack. It showed a diagram of bullet shaped vehicles of some kind. On of the diagrams had a cutaway that revealed that there were rows of seats inside the vehicle. It looked a little bit like a small passenger jet without any wings or windows.   
He tapped the diagram and said, "These are SAPCs, or Submersible Armored Personal Carriers. You will be loaded into one of these and launched from the bottom of the ship. We will steer you into Hong Kong's harbor by remote control using satellite signals. You will surface next to the docks and exit the vehicle.   
From here you will make your way into the city." He removed the diagram and revealed a street map of Hong Kong. He tapped where a large circle had been drawn in the middle of the map. "We believe that the Vampire Nation is being run from here. It's the old trade center building in Kenpo Square. It will be heavily fortified and you can expect a strong resistance when you attack here.   
We want the leaders taken alive if at all possible. That means you can't just knock the building over. Move in quickly, take out the defenses, then storm the building. Secure it floor by floor and make your way up. Once you have the leaders captured secure your position and hold it until we come for you.   
We know very little about the leaders of the Vampire Nation. Until a week and a half ago it was headed up by John Sansker. Since then we've heard that he has been killed and was replaced. We have no confirmation for this so keep your eyes open for this man." He held up a picture of a tall muscle bound man in a three piece suit. The man had a bronze tan and short blonde hair. Colonel Tibbets put down that picture and held up another one. "This is Mark Trevors. He was an assistant to Sansker and we believe that he is now the leader of the Vampire Nation. We do know that he was leading the Vampires that recently ambushed a UN peacekeeping force in Hong Kong." The picture was a still from a news broadcast. Trevors was standing in front of an exploding UN gunship with his fists raised in the air. He had a wild look in his eyes and was wearing a malicious grin. "Both of these men are considered to be very dangerous and nigh invulnerable so do not try to apprehend them by your self. Make sure that you have back up. Sansker alone has already killed one UN Shadow Striker and hundreds of human troops. The last thing we want is to lose more people trying to catch him. So use you team mates and use your head.   
That's all I have. Any questions?"   
A hand at the front of the room shot up. It was Air Raid, a hero from San Diego.   
"Yes?" asked the Colonel.   
"So basically, what you are saying is that you are going to strap us into a bullet and shoot us at Hong Kong?"   
The Colonel laughed and said, "Basically."   
"Ok." said Air Raid. "Just making sure I understood."   
"Anything else?"   
No one answered so the Colonel said, "Next I want to introduce you to the man who will be leading you in Hong Kong. Say hello to Crusader."   
A man sitting near the front got up from his chair and went up to stand next to Tibbets. The man was dressed in a black uniform that had plates of gold colored armor over the shoulders, torso and legs. He wore a black mask that concealed the top half of his head, his neck and his throat, leaving only the lower half of his face uncovered. A sword was strapped at an angle to each shoulder and they criss crossed across his back. There was a dagger in a sheath on the side of each calf and he had a sawed off shotgun in a holster on his right thigh. Twin forty fives were in shoulder holsters hanging under his arms and extra clips for them were in little compartments on his belt.. In the crook of his arm he carried a helmet made of the same material as his armor. He stood about six feet tall and was very fit.   
Maxine had heard of Crusader before. He had been thrust in the spotlight a few years back when he had gone to war with a bunch of Vampire gangs in Detroit. The news media had crucified Crusader for his brutal methods back then. In a few minutes she would be doing the same thing. What would they say about her?   
The Colonel continued. "I doubt there is anyone else in the world who has had as much experience killing Vampires as Crusader here. I'm going to let him tell you about himself and I want all of you to pay attention to what he has to say. He knows what he is talking about."   
"Thank you, Colonel." said Crusader. "He is right. My family has been hunting and killing Vampires since the fifteenth century. The title of Crusader is handed down from father to son and we are taught how to fight Vampires from infancy. There is no way I can teach you everything I know but I can tell you enough to help keep you alive once you get into Hong Kong. When we are out there tonight watch what I do. Mimic it. Stick close together and watch each others backs. Don't fall behind.   
The one thing you need to remember is AIM FOR THE HEART. Nothing is more effective in putting a Vampire down permanently than destroying it's heart. Shoot it, stab it, crush it, punch it, it doesn't matter as long as you render it useless. You don't need an oak stake, a bullet will work just as good. If you shoot a vampire anywhere else it will regenerate and get back up. So even if you cap one in the head, stop and take time to put a bullet in it's heart.   
Do not let a vampire bite you. There is no cure for Vampirism. You get bit and you will spend the rest of your life drinking blood. Personally, if I ever got bit I would kill myself. Better that than to become one of the undead. Any questions?"   
"What about holy water?" asked one of the vigilantes.   
"Do you have any holy water?" asked Crusader.   
The man shook his head, no.   
"Well, it will hurt Vampires. Older Vampires can laugh it off, though, unless they are purebreds. Purebreds it will kill on contact. Crosses don't do diddly so don't even bother.   
As long as you keep on your toes and remember what I said you're going to be just fine. Remember, aim for the heart."   
He turned to Tibbets and said, "That's all I have to say."   
"Thank you." said the Colonel and he stepped back up to the podium. "Now, all of you need to head back to your bunks and get geared up. You need to be on the Wet Deck and ready to go in fifteen minutes. We launch the SAPC in twenty minutes. If you aren't there then you aren't going. Understood?"   
The people in the room nodded yes and Tibbets dismissed them. Maxine got up from the desk and ran back to her cabin to get ready. She was on the Wet Deck and ready to go in ten minutes flat.   
Tibbets had told them that they could use anything from the ship's weapons cache that they wanted but most of the members of the strike team had opted to rely on their own technology or powers instead. Not Maxine. She loaded up on grenades and knives and got herself a Faustin automatic machine rifle that fired the same kind of ammunition that her service revolver back home did. She picked up a backpack full of ammo to go along with that plus a handgun to use in close quarters fighting. Crusader seemed to know what he was doing and he was going into Hong Kong packing heat and loaded for bear. She couldn't find any fault with his logic and decided that she was going to do the same thing.   
Over the next few minutes the rest of the strike team arrived as well as Colonel Tibbets and Crusader. While they were loaded into the SAPC and strapped into their seats Tibbets showed Crusader how to blow the hatch once they had surfaced in the harbor.   
"Once you hit the surface the pod's going to decompress." he said. " There's a light right here next to this handle. When it turns from red to green, yank on the handle. The whole top of the pod is going to blow off and you're going to find yourself sitting in out in the open. There's two out boards on the back. Use them to get in close to land or a dock and then bail out. We don't think that they're going to be watching the harbor but I wouldn't hang around too long. Get on dry land and get moving as soon as possible."   
"Wait for the green and then pull right?" said Crusader, making sure he understood.   
"You got it." said Tibbets. He stood up and looked out over the heads of the men and women sitting in the SAPC. "This is it, people. The people of the world are counting on you. Take care of yourselves and each other out there and make it home safe. Good luck."   
He stepped down out of the pod and the crew lowered the top down onto it. It was pitch black for a moment, but then the interior lights came on. Maxine could hear the clank of latches being shut outside and the hiss of pressure tanks being balanced. The whole pod jerked and swayed as it was lifted off of the ground and lowered through a opening in the bottom of the ship. She heard the splash of water and felt a momentary flash of panic when the sides of the SAPC groaned. Relax, she told herself. It was just the pod adjusting to the pressure and temperature of the water. There was a sputter towards the back of the craft and then a thunderous roar as the engines started up. The SAPC shot forward and they all found themsleves being pressed back into their seats. The pod's nose turned toward Hong Kong.   
The invasion had begun.   


* * *

  
_**~Fin-Fan-Fic-Fanatics~**Letters and comments from readers. Do I rock or do I suck? Write me and tell me what you think. If you don't want your comments put in this letters column, or if you want them taken out, please let me know._

** Same old, same old. I procrastinated a bunch on this issue while I tried to figure out how I was going to go about doing these Sansker/Dragon issues. The story changed three or four times in the mean time. By the way, if none of the Sansker stuff makes sense try reading the stuff on [this page.][3] It would explain alot.**   
** If you want to read other stuff I have written, [Bad Monkey Comics][4] is back up and running and it has all my stories and artwork. I had a couple of e-mails from last issue but I replied to them and they developed into long spoiler filled conversations so I decided to skip letters this issue. See you guys next issue.**   
  
  
  
  
  
  


   [1]: mailto:bcampo@hotmail.com
   [2]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html
   [3]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/bmsansker.html
   [4]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/



	11. Default Chapter Title

The Dragon: 2200

# 10

by [Brian Campo][1] (bcampo@hotmail.com)   


**This is a work of fan fiction.** The Savage Dragon and all related characters are owned by Erik Larsen, and I do not contest   
that ownership. This story is in no way official and it should not be taken as such. All characters in this story not owned by Mr.   
Larsen are owned by me, though I would gladly loan them out if asked nicely. 

John Sansker is owned either by Alan Moore or TMP productions, I don't know which. Anyway, he's not mine and I don't think that he is. Blah, Blah, Blah. . . 

**Warning:** This story may contain graphic violence, sexual situations and harsh language. If you shouldn't be reading it, don't. 

Visit the Dragon 2200 home page for back issues and covers ([http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html][2]) 

**Vampire Nation: A Dragon/Sansker 2200 crossover.**

**Part Two**

**The Flesh Pot Night Club and Whore House, Hong Kong- **The skinny blonde kid sat up on the floor behind the bar and shouted, "Someone answer the goddamn phone!" He looked to be about fifteen years old, was dressed in a pair of torn blue jeans and a t-shirt that was covered with mystery stains. He stank, the odor a mixture of fire, brimstone and raunchy BO.   
There was no answer, and the phone continued to wring. Wiping the sleep from his eyes he reached up and grabbed the edge of the bar. He pulled himself up to his feet and saw that aside from his brother (who was still passed out on the floor) he was alone in the club. It was nighttime and all the lights were out, a very unusual occurrence for the Flesh Pot.   
"Where in the hell did everybody go?"   
Outside there were loud rumbles and bright flashing lights, like bombs dropping. An airplane roared by and the windows of the club vibrated with it's passing. The boy scratched at his puke encrusted hair and wondered just what the hell was going on.   
The phone continued to ring, breaking his concentration and irritating his hangover. "All right, all ready." he hissed at it. "I'm coming, motherfucker." He stumbled down the length of the bar and snatched the phone off the hook. "What?!"   
"Mr. Violator?" said the voice on the other end.   
"Who wants to know?" he rested his head on the bar, enjoying the cool feeling of the countertop on his aching head..   
"We spoke before. My name is Jacob Moore. I am in the employ of a Mr. John Sansker. Do you remember? (Sansker: A Change of Heart # 2 & 3)"   
"Faintly." said the boy. "I've been drinking for a while now."   
"I understand. Well, Mr. Sansker had offered a certain piece of property in the United States to you in exchange for a favor."   
"Property? I don't know nothing about any property." He squinted his eyes in concentration and rubbed his hand through the peach fuzz growing on his chin.   
"A twinky factory."   
At the mention of twinkies he stood up straight, paying attention now. "Wait. Oh, yeah, he said that he'd hook me up with a warehouse full of twinkies if I did him a favor sometime."   
"That's right. The reason I'm calling is that he asked me to call you and call in that favor."   
"Oh, yeah? What's he need me to do?"   
"I'm not sure. He said that he wants you to meet him at Kenpo Square there in Hong Kong."   
"Do I need to bring anything?"   
"I don't know. He said that he would be requiring your surgical skills and that you would know what that meant."   
Surgical skills. The boy thought about that for a moment and then a smile broke out onto his face. Chuckling, he said "OOOOOH. I get it. Heh, heh, surgical skills. That guy kills me. All right, sounds good. I'll meet him there."   
"Good day, then. When you see him tell him that I hope things are going well."   
"Yeah, I'll do that." The boy hung up the phone and listened while another bomb explode outside. It sounded like a war was going on out there. Something told him that John was involved. 

**Hong Kong Harbor-** The light on the decompression gauge turned green and, as he was instructed, Crusader yanked on the handle. The top of the SAPC (Submersible Armored Personnel Carrier) blew off with a bang and the silence in the pod was instantly shattered by the sounds of warfare. Deafening explosions and the loud rattle of anti-aircraft guns filled the night outside. All across the island bombs were being dropped and the explosions were making the moonless night bright as day. The brightness would fade to pitch black for a second and then another bomb would hit, turning the sky white. It had a strobe effect and was very hard on the eyes.   
Crusader stood up in the front of the boat and took in his surroundings. He cut a striking figure as he stood there and Maxine found herself in awe of him. The pictures and video she had seen of him over the years didn't do him justice. He was one of those rare people that actually looked bigger in real life. In that pose, she thought to herself, he kinda looks like Washington crossing the Delaware. She had to admit it. There was a certain thrill in knowing that in a few minutes she would be fighting side by side with a vampire hunting legend. Strangely, she found herself feeling more excited then scared.   
The was air was thick with the smoke of burning buildings and only the dim outlines of nearby docks could be made out through the haze. Crusader turned and pointed over at the nearest dock. Gridwell, one of the men in the back of the pod, nodded in reply and lowered the outboard motor into the water. He cranked up the engine with a push of a button and steered toward the dock that Crusader had indicated.   
They drew up next to the dock and the members of the super powered assault team quickly disembarked from the craft. Maxine pulled herself up onto the dock and immediately crouched down to make herself less visible. She brought the butt of the automatic rifle up to her shoulder and scanned the surrounding shoreline through the scope of her gun. She didn't see any vampires, but that didn't mean they weren't out there. Any of those shadows could be hiding a horde of them.   
A movement right next to her made her turn and she heard Crusader whisper, "You see anything, Chalmers?" He crouched next to her and pulled out one of his swords.   
Max shook her head. "It's all quiet here by the waterfront. They must all be farther inland fighting the human troops."   
"Well, keep your eyes peeled. I think we'll run into them soon enough." He stood up and started down the length of the dock towards the city.   
The rest of the team hustled to keep up with him. They moved as quietly as they could, but there were four heavily armored cyborgs in their number and they made a lot of noise when they walked. One of them in particular, a walking arsenal named Bonesaw, sounded like he had a v-8 engine idling away inside his chest. The boards beneath his feet bowed under his weight when he walked on them and his feet produced hollow clanks with each step he took.   
The team moved into the alleys and started to double time their steps. One of the vigilantes jumped onto a fire escape and made his way to the roof. From there, he moved quickly along the building's edge until he reached the far side of the building, where he jumped over to the next roof. He disappeared from sight as he raced ahead to scout for trouble.   
For her part, Max just stayed as close as she could to Crusader and tried to look in all directions at once. She was following a little too close. He paused once and she stumbled into him, nearly knocking both of them to the ground. He whirled around with sword raised, but lowered it a second later.   
"Careful, girl. Something touches me on the back I assume it's a vampire. Got it?"   
Max nodded. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again." Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry." she said again.   
He must have felt guilty for talking to her so sternly, because after a moment, he put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and said, "Forget about it. "   
"I guess I'm just a little nervous. I'm just a cop. I've never been in a situation like this before."   
"Relax." he told her. "You're going to do fine."   
She managed a smile for him and said, "I'll try."   
As he turned to continue on his way up the alley he motioned for her to follow. "So, you're a cop, huh?" he said in a low voice. " I think I've heard about you. From Chicago, aren't you?"   
"Yeah. I've only been on the force there for about three months."   
"From what I hear you've been pretty busy."   
"Yeah, but not always productive. Sometimes it seems like I lose more fights then I win."   
"Oh, I'm sure that will change in time. Things will be different when you have a few more years under your belt."   
"You sound like my dad." said Max with a chuckle.   
"He sounds like a smart man. You should listen to him." He stopped, all of a sudden, and sniffed at the air. "You smell that?" he asked. His eyes narrowed into a squint as they searched the dim recesses of the alley.   
"Smell wha-" Maxine started to say but she was cut off a moment later when the ground beneath their feet vibrated with the rumble of a nearby explosion and the darkness around them turned to white. "Holy shit, that one was close." she said as she looked up at the sky. Then she saw the shapes lining the surrounding rooftops. She snapped her rifle up and sighted one.   
"Vampires." she heard Crusader whisper. That's what Maxine had thought, but who knew that vampires were so big? The creatures silhouetted by the bomb's explosion were huge, possibly as big as eight feet tall. As the brightness of the bomb faded she could make out more of the creature's details. They were long and skinny, their bodies like that of a heroin junkie. A large mane of black hair sprouted from their bat like heads. Most were naked but a few of them wore loin cloths and large metal boots.   
"They don't look like any vampire I've ever seen." said Max.   
"They're bezerkers." said Crusader. "Not very intelligent but strong as an ox. Sometimes they have a psychic handler controlling them but most of the time they just let them do their thing and rip shit up."   
One of the vampires heaved something out into the air and it hit the ground in front of Max and Crusader with a wet sounding thump. Max tore her gaze away from the vampires just long enough to see what it was. It was Devil-Man, the vigilante who had run ahead to scout for trouble. Apparently he had found trouble. The vampires had mangled him until he was barely recognizable, and he was missing a couple of limbs.   
As she looked up, she saw more vampires scurrying out into the end of the alley. She turned and looked the other way, and sure enough, more were at that end, cutting off their escape.   
"Crusader." she said. The thrill was gone, now. All that was left was fear.   
"I see them." said Crusader. "Get ready." He gripped his sword in both hands and kept looking up and toward both ends of the alley.   
There was a hiss from above, and one of the vampires dropped down off of the roof towards them. Carbide, another of the cyborgs, opened up with his chain gun and cut the vampire in half before it could touch the ground. The rest of the vampires jumped down on them, and those on the ground rushed in to attack.   
Max took aim and started squeezing off shots with her rifle. The head of the vampire nearest her exploded. Before the brain matter had even hit the ground she was sighting on another one and firing.   
"Goddamnit, Chalmers!" she heard Crusader shout. "Aim for the heart!"   
The first vampire she had shot was struggling to get to it's feet, still moving even though it didn't have a head. She put a round through it's chest and it fell to the ground and lay still.   
Clawed hands grasped at her shoulder and Max spun towards them. She grunted in disgust and drove the butt of her rifle up into the head of the vampire standing there. The bones of it's jaw snapped under the weight of the blow and the rifle but continued up through the creature's palate and into it's brain pan.. She spun the rifle in her hands, shoved the barrel against it's chest and pulled the trigger.   
Farther down the alley, Crusader moved in a blur, spinning under the vampires flailing grasps and swiping at their guts with his sword. He tore through them, his sword strokes criss crossing across their torsos. The cyborg Bonesaw was roaring like someone was stepping on his gas pedal, and every couple of seconds it sounded like he was shifting up into a higher gear. He had arms with various saw blade attachments extended from his chest and was using them to saw through vampires. The metal all over his body was slick with their gore and blood. Air Raid blew wave after wave of attacking vampires back, using his air and wind manipulating powers. The Flaming Madman was releasing blasts of white hot fire from his fingertips and burning vampires to a crisp. Ginsu, a vigilante with knives on his fingers was slicing and dicing and leaving the vampires in chunks of three different shapes and sizes. Before the awesome power of the team, the dead vampires began to pile up. More vampires took thier places, coming from the streets and the roof tops.   
While Maxine shot at one vampire another jumped onto her back. It pulled her backwards and lifted her into the air. She struck at the vampire with her rifle and kicked at it's shins with her heels, but it held on tight, clinging to her with the claws on it's hands. It snaked an arm around her throat and tried squeezing off her windpipe. Another ran towards her and tackled her from in front. Max and the vampire on her back fell over backwards, and the three of them went down in a pile of thrashing limbs. More vampires jumped on them and Maxine felt them begin to claw at her body. Teeth from one sank into her forearm and another bit her on the lower thigh. In the midst of the struggle she lost her grip on her rifle and it was ripped away from her. She opened her mouth to scream for help and one of the vampires shoved his fingers in and tore at the soft flesh under her tongue with his claws. She panicked and began thrashing out at them. The first couple of blows were pretty ineffectual because she didn't have room to move. But once her struggles had loosened up the pile of vampires a little she was able to put some force behind the punches. Her fists ripped through them as she threw right after left after right. She was punching hard enough to literally punch through them, her clenched fists tore straight through their rib cages and skulls and out the other side. They squealed like pigs and fell off of her, only to be replaced a moment later by another.   
In her head she was screaming, "Why isn't anyone helping me?!" _Maybe they are all dead._ she answered herself. _Do something, Max, or you will be too._   
With a grunt of effort, she threw a leg over and rolled onto her side, dragging the pile of clawing vampires with her. She continued rolling and ended up on her belly. They were trying to tear off the body armor and clothing she was wearing. Max bent her leg at the knee and was able to raise herself off of the ground. A hand clawed at her face and she sank her teeth into it. She bore down and a second later the hand was jerked away minus about three fingers. She was growling now as she struggled, a low, bestial sound from deep down in her throat. Rage was building in her as she fought to free herself. She pressed up with her arms, like she was doing a pushup and she lifted the whole pile of vampires up with her. Max threw herself to the side and slammed herself and the vampires on her back into the side of a building. It shook a few of them loose, but when she was able to brace with her feet and use her legs to push with, she crushed the vampires on her back to mush. She pushed off the wall and threw herself forward, throwing punches at the vampires in front of her. They fell back before her onslaught, shrieking in fear and stumbling over each other in their efforts to get away.   
Through the jumbled thoughts in her mind and the loud roar of gunfire in the alley, Max realized that someone was calling her name. A quick look and she spotted Crusader shouting, "Chalmers!! You still with us?"   
"Yeah, I'm here. A little busy at the moment, though." She noticed that she had a quiver to her voice when she spoke. Adreneline pumped through her veins and her heart was beating a fast tempo. She was afraid that at any moment she was going to lose control and wet her pants.   
"Here!" he shouted back. "This will help!" He pulled out the other broadsword he had strapped to his back and tossed it to her.   
Max snatched the blade out of the air and waded into the mass of vampires swinging it. Her powerful blows took out three or four of them at a time. As she fought, all the feeling of fear and helplessness she had felt earlier when they had pinned her to the ground turned to anger. She bellowed with rage and continued forward, hacking and slicing. The blood of her victims covered her in thick, chunky splatters.   
"Yes!" she heard Crusader shout. "Kill 'em all, Chalmers! Yeah, girl! That's the way you do it!"   
There was an explosion at the far end of the alley and chunks of shrapnel struck all around Maxine. She looked to see what had blown up and saw Bonesaw lying in a pile of burning pieces. There were several vampires laying near him that didn't seem to be in any better shape. Apparently they had done something to him to make him explode but had been caught in the blast when he did. There were other members of her team lying on the ground as well. They were all superior fighters but the vampires had numbers on their side and it looked like they were winning. Attracted by the sounds of battle, more and more vampires were entering the alley every second.   
Crusader ran up behind her and grabbed her by the elbow. "Come on," he said. " we have to get out of here."   
"You want to retreat?"   
"No. This isn't our mission. We're supposed to be taking out the leaders, not fighting the troops. If we stay here, we all die and the mission fails. We need to make a run for it. Understand?" A vampire rushed at them and Crusader put it down with a blast from his shotgun.   
Maxine wasn't sure. "What about the others?" She cut off the head of a vampire with her sword. She then snatched the decapitated head out of the air and swinging it by the hair, used it to club another. She dropped the head and impaled the vampire through the heart.   
"If they can make it out they know that we're headed to Kenpo Square and can meet us there. If they don't make it out then at least they can slow down the vampires so that we can. The mission is what's important here."   
"Then maybe you should go." said Max. "I can stay here and help hold them off."   
"No, Chalmers. I need you with me. I can fight but I'm not invulnerable. If I have any hope of getting into that building and taking out the leaders I have got to have you with me."   
She knew he was right. If they didn't get out of here then they would likely all be killed without ever getting close to Kenpo Square and the leaders of the Vampire Nation. She didn't like the idea of splitting up the invasion team, but she couldn't see any other choice   
"All right. We do it your way." she said.   
"Good." said Crusader. "We fight our way to the end of the alley and head north." He started that way and Maxine followed. The going was rough. It was like going against the current of a very fast moving river. Crusader and Max hacked through the crowd of vampires, stumbling over the bodies of their victims and pressing forward. The alley hadn't seemed that long earlier, but when you had to kill fifteen vampires to move forward five feet it made the alley feel like it was several miles long. They kept going, though, and several minutes later they were able to break out into the open. Once out into more open ground they began to run, quickly cutting down any vampire that tried to stop them. Crusader was faster than Maxine and he had to slow down every thirty seconds or so to give her a chance to catch up. At one point someone shot at them from a roof top and Maxine covered Crusader's body with her own to protect him from the bullets. He thanked her while he fired back with his forty five's and killed the sniper. Together, they continued on towards the center of Hong Kong and the Vampire Nation. 

**Kenpo Square, Hong Kong. Twenty minutes later.-**"Sir?"   
Mark Trevors turned away from the window overlooking Hong Kong and saw his hired hand, Adam Westerling standing there.   
Adam was an albino, and his entire body was devoid of pigment. His long white hair was braided into thick dreads that were tied into a pony tail at the base of his skull. He wore loose fitting jeans, boots, and a plain white T-shirt. Strapped to each arm was a shoulder holster holding two forty five's.   
Adam was the only person in Mark Trevors' army that wasn't a vampire. He was a mutant, a victim of a botched experiment when Westerling used to be in the United States military. He had escaped from the US Army and started traveling the world, peddling his skills and powers to the highest bidder. Mark had hired him back when he first started making his plans to steal the vampire nation away from John Sansker. He wanted to have someone with him that could match Sansker's fighting skills and speed but didn't have all the same weaknesses of the other vampires. He had been aware that his plan could have failed at any time and he had taken care to make sure that he had someone who could defend him from Sansker if things had gone badly. The plan had worked, though, and they ended up not needing Adam. Mark had kept him on, though and he was glad that he had. With this little war going on. Adam's skills had proved invaluable. In the last couple of weeks he had been doing everything from stealing weapons to assassinating UN military officials.   
"What is is, Adam?"   
"I've recieved a report that a group of Super Powered Beings have tried to sneak into Hong Kong by way of the harbor. There were heavy vampire casualties, but we have stopped them."   
"They're dead?"   
"All but two of them."   
"How did that happen?"   
"They fought their way past our forces and disappeared. We're looking for them."   
"They must be found."   
"They will be found, sir."   
"Very good." said Mark. He turned and looked back out the window, watching the explosions and tiny flashes of gunfire. "These two that escaped. . ." he said after a moment. "Do we know who they are?"   
"There is a girl. She has green skin and a fin on top of her head. We believe that she is the Dragon cop from Chicago. The other is Crusader."   
"The vampire killer?" There was a hint of worry in his voice.   
"Yes, sir."   
"This is not good."   
"I know, sir."   
"Double your efforts to find them. I want machine guns guarding every concievable way into this building. And I want you waiting in the lobby downstairs. If they make it inside you will deal with them. Do you understand?"   
"Yes, sir." said Adam.   
"That is all. You may go."   
Adam turned and left the room, leaving Mark alone to watch the progress of his war. 

**On board the USS Majestic, just off the coast of Hong Kong-**"In case you haven't noticed, private, we're a little fucking busy at the moment." the sergeant growled at his subordinate. "We got a goddamn invasion going on."   
"This is very important, sir. I really think that you ought to see this."   
The sergeant glared at him for a minute but when the private didn't back down he said, "This had better be good."   
He followed the private down several corridors and then down a flight of steps that took them to the next deck down. From here the private showed him to a locker room full of metal lockers. They walked three rows over and then headed into the back of the room, towards the showers.   
About halfway back the sergeant spotted the blood on the floor. It was dripping out of one of the top lockers and there was a puddle about four feet wide on the ground below it.   
"I haven't touched a thing, sir, and I haven't told anyone but you." said the private.   
The sergeant stared at the name tag on the locker. This was bad. "Get something to open it with. Hurry."   
The private took off running and was gone a couple of minutes before he returned with some bolt cutters. The sergeant took them from him and used them to cut through the padlock holding the door on the locker closed. When the lock broke, the sergeant pulled it off and dropped it on the floor. He pulled up on the handle and the locker door swung open, revealing a grisly sight. The sergeant covered his mouth with the back of his hand and suppressed the urge to vomit. Inside the locker was the body of a gray haired middle aged man. Apparently, the man had died from a gunshot wound in the side of his head. After he had been killed the body had been bent and broken until it could be stuffed into a locker that was half his size. (If you have read Spawn: Bloodfued this should sound familiar)   
The sergeant coughed into his hand and turned away so that he didn't have to look at the corpse. "Phone." he choked out. "I need a phone."   
The private lead him to the nearest one. The sergeant picked it up and dialed "0". "Get me Colonel Tibbets" he told the operator. "It's an emergency."   
A moment later the Colonel came on the line. "This is Tibbets."   
"Sir, this is Sergeant Victor Yale. I have reason to believe that the invasion team has been infiltrated by the enemy. We found a body, sir. I think it's Crusader."   


* * *

  
_**~Fin-Fan-Fic-Fanatics~**Letters and comments from readers. Do I rock or do I suck? Write me and tell me what you think. If you don't want your comments put in this letters column, or if you want them taken out, please let me know._   
**If you want to read other stuff I have written, try [Bad Monkey Comics][3]**

Just thought I'd drop you a line to say Dragon is looking pretty good.   
The Hong Kong and Vampire Nation aspects are what have really caught my   
eye so far and I'm really enjoying the way its developing.   
(edited )   
Keep up the good work. 

La Tristesse Durera,   
Jac 

**This was kind of a surprise to see. It was Jac Milnestien and I that first started the IFS fan fiction group. He's a completely cool guy and I've never had one bad thought about him. Thanks for the kind words, Jac, they are appreciated. I do my best on this series. Usually it doesn't come out like I planned it or anywhere near as good as I would like to see it, but it is my best. I'm glad people are digging it. Jac is a great writer and you guys should go check out his Angels over Albion series over at **[IFS][4] . 

Brian,   
As always, impressive story. I have a couple of points on grammar, but I'll   
get to 'em. First, I liked the description of Crusader. Glad there's some   
experience along on this trip. Just a slight quibble with him- the   
generational father-to-son angle. I like the idea, but I winced at it, just   
because Spawn, the Crow, Grendel, and endless Batman Elseworlds tales have   
driven the idea of passing the mantle into the ground. Still, with the   
"exotic locale" and the idea of fighting the supernatural, this has come the   
closest to reminding me of the classic generational hero, Lee Falk's "The   
Phantom." Not the story, just the character. Nice.   
Small complaint: this was such a tease!!! No action w/our heroine! If   
it wasn't for the fairly cool double crossing soul sale earlier on, I'd call   
this issue a cheat. That was a cool scene tho', so I won't call it that.   
Besides, I can't feel but so "cheated" with a free story, right? =>   
(edited)   
P.S. I admit I haven't read Sansker 2200, and so don't know all the rules on   
that story's vampires, but exactly how does a vampire get "a bronze tan?"   
Vampiric Ignoramus,   
C.L. Bishop ;) 

**I edited his letter a little and took out his grammar lesson. I did take the lesson to heart, though and I appreciate it. I even manage to avoid making some of the same mistakes this issue. Thanks for the help, C.L. Bishop. I need it.**   
** The Crusader origins were more inspired by DC's Azrael then anything else but there were a lot of other multigenerational heroes thrown into the mix, some of them vampire killers. By now you can see that Crusader was not what he appeared to be, and maybe you can see why I opted not to bring the Phantom Master into the Hong Kong affair. I had already planned to have a traitor on the team and more than one would have been too much.**   
** Max saw some action this issue so hopefully that will make up. Next issue should have plenty more and hopefully it will tie up all the loose ends for this story arc.**   
** Kasner Industries, the company that John Sansker used to own, developed sunblocks for vampires that protect them from the sun and allow them to come out during the day time. Some of these were "Tan in a bottle" which gave the wearer a fake tan. John has been using this trick for a long time, though, and readers of the Spawn:Bloodfued series might remember him using it way back then. (If you haven't read the Spawn:Blood Fued series you should search it out in a back issue bin near you. It's one of my favorite Spawn stories ever and I liked it so much that I was inspired to write nine Sansker fan fics since I've read them.)**

**Someone on the Dragon message Board left a message last month saying that the story was good but I forgot to copy the message. To whoever that was, thank you. I also had a review for that issue on Fanfiction.net but as I am writing this I am unable to access it. I do remember that it was a positive one, which made me happy.******

**NEXT ISSUE: The earth moving, senses shattering, at times stomach churning conclusion to the Vampire Nation: Dragon/Sansker 2200 crossover.**   
  
  


   [1]: mailto:bcampo@hotmail.com
   [2]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html
   [3]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/
   [4]: http://www.slayerfanfic.com/ifs/



	12. Default Chapter Title

The Dragon: 2200

# 11

by [Brian Campo][1] (bcampo@hotmail.com)   


**This is a work of fan fiction.** The Savage Dragon and all related characters are owned by Erik Larsen, and I do not contest   
that ownership. This story is in no way official and it should not be taken as such. All characters in this story not owned by Mr.   
Larsen are owned by me, though I would gladly loan them out if asked nicely. 

John Sansker is owned either by Alan Moore or TMP productions, I don't know which. Anyway, he's not mine and I don't think that he is. Blah, Blah, Blah. . . 

Violator I know for certain is owned by TMP and that's cool with me. Just don't sue me, please. I'm just a poor boy and I wouldn't be worth the trouble. 

**Warning:** This story may contain graphic violence, sexual situations and harsh language. If you shouldn't be reading it, don't. 

Visit the Dragon 2200 home page for back issues and covers ([http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html][2]) 

**Vampire Nation: A Dragon/Sansker 2200 crossover.**

**Part Three**   
From their position on the third floor of a high rise Maxine and Crusader had a clear view of the plaza and building at Kenpo Square. Crusader scanned the area with binoculars, locating the defenses and calculating the risks. Things didn't look good. The vampires had prepared themselves for an invasion. First off, they had a ring of sandbag barricades all the way around the building with machine gun nests every twenty feet or so. Concrete highway dividers had been placed in front of the sandbags, making the wall even more impregnable. There were also machine guns to be seen sticking out of the second story windows of the building and snipers on the roof. No doubt there was a small army of vampires hiding down behind those barricades and who knows what other surprises they had waiting in store for them. Grenades, probably. If they went anywhere near that place they would be in a world of trouble and he told Maxine as much.   
"Maybe you could stay behind me when we rush them and let me take the heat from the guns." she suggested.   
Crusader shook his head. "That's not such a good idea. With that many guns you'd be on your ass in a couple of seconds and I'd be a sitting duck."   
Maxine knew he was right. She remembered when they had arrested the Campfire Girls back in Chicago and she had taken the full brunt of a machine gun blast at point blank range. She had been thrown, literally, head over heels.   
"So, what do you suggest?" she asked.   
Crusader didn't say anything for a moment as he continued to study the vampire's defensive layout. The building was only five stories tall so it probably wouldn't be too much trouble to find the vampires they wanted, once they got inside. Judging from the amount of activity he was seeing in the windows, it looked like the vampires were camped out on the fourth and fifth floors. Getting inside was the trick, and it was going to take a pretty good trick to pull it off.   
"I think that we need to make a grand entrance. Something with some sizzle." he said. "You remember that ambulance we saw crashed about half a mile back?"   
She nodded in reply.   
"Let's head back there." he told her.   
Quietly and quickly, they retraced their route back to the overturned hover ambulance. Crusader tapped on it's gas tank and asked Maxine if she thought that she could carry it. It was a fifty gallon tank and filled it would have weighed around four hundred pounds.   
"I could carry the whole damn ambulance if you needed me to." Maxine told him.   
"Excellent." he said. "Why don't you try to get it off of there without breaking it while I find some more of the things we need?"   
"Sure thing." said Maxine and she did as she was told, grabbing a hold of the metal bands that held the gas tank to the bottom of the vehicle and tearing them loose from the frame. When she got them off, she lowered the tank down to the ground, noting that the tank was about three quarters of the way full.   
Crusader had disappeared up and over the ambulance into it's cab, and she could hear him banging and yanking things around in there. She climbed up on top and looked down through the door where she could see him ripping at the seat covers. He was removing the covers and then tearing out all the foam rubber stuffing material. He had a good sized pile of it at his feet.   
"You need any help?" she asked.   
He stopped after the next rip and looked up at her. "Yeah, sure." he said. "Take these." He reached back between the ambulance's bucket seats and pulled out a silver canister with valves on top. "Careful." he said when he handed her the canister. "That's compressed oxygen. It can explode if you drop it."   
"All right." said Max as she took it from him. Crusader handed her three more of them which she took down to the ground and laid beside the gas tank. He followed a few moments later with a large supply of foam rubber wrapped in one of the seat covers. He squatted down beside the gas tank and began shredding the pieces of foam rubber and dropping it into the sheared off pipe sticking out of it. Maxine did the same thing he did.   
"What exactly is it that were making here?" she asked.   
"Napalm." said Crusader.   
She paused for a second, more than a little shocked. She had heard about the stuff and the damage it used to do back when it was legal to use it in war. It was nasty shit.   
"Are you sure this is going to work?"   
He shrugged. "The recipe is pretty simple. Take gasoline, add styrofoam or foam rubber, allow to dissolve, pour on someone you don't like, ignite. The center piece of any party."   
He seemed to know what he was talking about. She kept quiet as they finished with the foam rubber. When they were done he asked her to crimp off the the end of the pipe. She did so, bending it in half and effectively sealing it off. Crusader removed the sword scabbards from his back and separated the canvass straps from them. He used these to strap the oxygen tanks around the outside of the gas tank, cinching them tightly into place. He asked for the knife belt that Maxine had buckled around her thigh and all the grenades she had left on her person. She willingly handed them over and Crusader added them to the bomb, tying each end of the knife strap to the straps holding the oxygen tanks. Between the two of them they came up with nine grenades, which he clipped to the strap.   
Once finished, he stood up and took a step back, surveying his handiwork. "How far do you think that you could throw that?" he asked her.   
Maxine sized it up and hazarded a guess at about two hundred yards if she really tried, maybe farther if she could do a shot put type spin with it..   
"Oh, we're only going to want to throw about half of that distance." he told her. "Any farther and it will go off before it gets close to those barricades. Any shorter and I'm afraid that we'll be in the blast radius, and we sure as hell don't want to be there."   
Maxine nodded in agreement to that.   
"Well. what do you think, Chalmers? You about ready to do this thing?"   
"The sooner we do it the sooner it'll be over." she replied. She squatted down and lifted the bomb up and then after standing, she shouldered it. "You're going to have to cover my ass." she said. "If anyone shoots at us on the way I'm going to be a little busy trying not to drop this thing."   
"Don't worry." he told her. "I got your back." He picked up one of the swords and stuck it at an angle down through his belt, just in case he needed it later. He asked Maxine if she wanted the other one, but she declined. "Suit yourself." he told her and tossed the other sword under a nearby dumpster.   
They made their way back to Kenpo Square and stopped at the mouth of an alley across from the front of the building.   
"All right, listen up. We're going to have to make this quick." he said. "You step out and get ready to throw. I'll yank the pins and say, "Go." and then you let it rip. Remember, try to drop it right behind the barricades."   
She nodded and took a deep breath.   
"One more thing." said Crusader. "Once we're inside, we're taking the leaders alive. Don't kill them."   
Max had to suppress a laugh. She had thought that she would have to tell him the same thing and had just been waiting for the right time to say it. Let's face it, he loved killing vampires and she was afraid that he would just waste the leaders of the vampire nation, never even trying to capture them alive. "Sounds good." she told him with a smile. "Let's do it."   
She stepped out into the middle of the alley, planted one foot behind her and lifted the bomb up over her head and behind her back. "Ready." she said.   
Crusader stepped up behind her, stuck a finger through the ring on each grenade and yanked them out simultaneously.   
"Go!"   
She heaved the bomb forward and released it into the air. It flew skyward, wobbling from the liquid sloshing around inside. It reached the top of it's arc and then began to descend. It was going to land right behind the barricade.   
"Nothing but net." Maxine whispered.   
Shouts broke out as the vampires crouching behind the barricades noticed the incoming object. Just twenty feet above the ground the grenades went off. An instant later the oxygen tanks and the gas tank exploded. Suddenly everything was bright yellow and a thunderous boom shook nearby windows. The contents of the gas tank splattered outward in a wide burning circle. One of the Oxygen tanks had only been punctured, and when the wreckage of the bomb hit the ground the escaping air sent it spinning in circles, spreading the burning napalm even more. It plowed through the vampire ranks, running them over and leaving them burning in it's wake. Screams filled the night as vampires jumped up over the barricade, trying to escape the burning nightmare. There was no putting the fire out as they beat helplessly at the flames on their bodies. Gun fire chattered, but no one was firing a gun. The heat of the fire was setting the bullets off. Vampires were being shot down by their own ammunition.   
Crusader sprinted from the alley and across the plaza with Maxine close behind. No one tried to stop them, they were too distracted by the napalm that seemed to be burning everything in sight. They skirted the burning circle and ran toward the nearest window on the bottom floor of the building. Crusader pulled a forty five and shot holes in the glass before he went crashing through it. He hit the ground and rolled to his feet. A quick leap put him behind a cement column, giving him cover while he assessed what the situation was here in the lobby of the building. Maxine came through the same window that he had jumped through and kept her feet when she landed. She spotted Crusader hiding behind a column and did the same thing, jumping behind another column.   
Crusader stuck his head out from behind the column and gave the lobby a quick once over. There wasn't shit to be seen in the way of defenses. No guards, nothing. He looked over at Maxine with a questioning look on his face. She took a quick look around and shook her head, no. She hadn't seen anything, either.   
Surely the vampires hadn't been relying only on the defenses outside. That was pure stupidity.   
He cautiously began to step out from behind the column when he heard running footsteps from the other side of the lobby. Quickly reversing direction, he stepped out of the other side of the column with his gun raised. An albino dressed in white denim pants and a t-shirt was coming his way. He was sporting a shoulder holster much like Crusader's, made to hold two automatics. The guns were in his hands.   
Crusader squeezed off a shot at him, but suddenly the albino wasn't there anymore. One second he was in plain sight, the next he was gone. There was nothing he could have jumped behind, he just disappeared right before Crusader's eyes.   
Maxine heard a popping sound to her left and started to turn toward it. Something was jammed roughly into her ear and then there was an explosion that snapped her neck violently to the right. Her eyes rolled up in her head as she spun and fell to the ground.   
The sound of the gunshot got Crusader's attention and he looked towards where Maxine had been standing. The albino was there. He had just shot Maxine. She was falling to the ground with blood squirting in a high arc from her ear. Crusader fired at the albino, but again, he suddenly disappeared. There was a popping sound behind him and Crusader sidestepped and spun. A gun roared and bullets smacked into the concrete that Crusader had just been standing next to. He kept moving, searching for a target at the same time. He spotted the albino about four feet away and opened up with his gun, getting off a couple of shots. The albino jumped to his left and winked out of existence. More popping sounds, right behind Crusader this time. He turned, drawing his other automatic as he did. The albino was in the air, in mid kick. The kick connected with Crusader's back and it knocked him forward. He stumbled forward, trying at first to keep his balance, but quickly gave up on that. Crusader balled up and went into a roll, coming out of it with both guns blazing. The albino disappeared, narrowly avoiding the bullets. Crusader didn't wait for the popping sounds this time, he just turned the instant the albino disappeared. He saw him reappear, empty air one instant a man there the next. Crusader jumped towards him, trying to get a hold of him with his arms. He felt the barrel of a gun get pressed in between the plates of armor on his thigh as they struggled and it went off. Ignoring the pain, he focused on keeping a hold of the albino. He circled one arm around his head, putting him in a headlock. He brought his other hand up and shoved his gun into his gut. He pulled on the trigger twice. The albino disappeared from his grasp but a spray of blood showered down over Crusader. He had got the bastard, he was sure of it.   
There was a popping sound across the room, behind some chairs in what looked like the waiting room part of the lobby. He limped over toward it, as quickly as he could. The albino came up over the back of the chairs, clutching his gut with one hand and his gun in the other. Blood soaked his shirt and the front of his jeans. Crusader dove to the ground and rolled as the albino shot at him. He fired back, shooting at the man's legs that he could see from beneath the chairs. The albino took rounds in the knees and he stumbled backwards and fell on his back. Crusader emptied the rest of both clips onto him, hitting him every time. The room became very quiet all of a sudden. He waited for a moment, seeing if the albino was going to move again. He didn't.   
The whole gun battle had lasted less than a minute.   
Breathing heavily, he rolled onto his back and fished out fresh clips for his guns from his utility belt.   
"Chalmers!" he shouted out. There was no reply. He sat up and used one of the chairs to help pull himself to his feet. Blood ran down his leg as he limped his way over to Maxine's still form. "Hey, kid, you still with me?"   
There was a pool of blood around her head, coming from out of her ear. He flopped down beside her and gave her a good shake. "Chalmers! Come on, girl, snap out of it."   
She moaned. "What happened?" she managed to mumble.   
"You got shot in the ear. Can you move?"   
She struggled to sit up but ended up falling forward on her face. "I'm dizzy." she said.   
"It's probably your balance." he told her. "Everything that controls it is in your inner ear."   
"It should be healing." she told him. "There's something else wrong."   
"The bullet is still in there, most likely. It's keeping it from healing properly."   
"Well, I can't even get up. How am I supposed to help you?"   
"You're not." said Crusader. "I'm just going to have to go in alone from here."   
"No!" said Max. "There's no way you can do this alone. You're going to need me up there."   
"There's no point in arguing this, girl. You can't even get to your feet. You can't walk, then you can't fight."   
"Maybe if you helped me walk I could still go up with you." said Maxine. "You just can't take them all on by yourself."   
"I can't support you and fight at the same time. You'd only slow me down and get us both killed. Look, if you really want to help me, then stay here. Just stay here and shoot anybody that comes in. Got it?"   
"Fuck!" said Maxine. She didn't like it, but she knew he was right. She just felt bad that she couldn't in on the action.   
"By the way," said Crusader. " do you have any tampons?"   
She rolled over and gave him a puzzled look. "Any what?"   
"Tampons. You seem like a girl that likes to be prepared so I figured you might have some."   
After a moment she said, "In my back pack."   
Crusader opened up her pack and dug through it until he found them and then tore the plastic covering off of one with his teeth. He tore his pants open around the bullet wound in his leg and pushed the tampon down into the bullet hole. It swelled up almost immediately, filling the hole and stopping the bleeding. Max watched with amazement.   
"Where did you learn that?"   
"That's what they were originally used for back in the two big ones. Want one for your ear?"   
She laughed and said, "No thanks."   
"Well," he said as he shakily pulled himself to his feet. "I better get going. Keep your wits about you and remember to aim for the heart."   
"I will." she told him. "Good luck, sir. It's been an honor fighting by your side."   
He grinned down at her and said, "You, too. You're going places, Chalmers. You take care of yourself." He limped away from her, headed for the door that lead to the stair case. He started up the stairs but stopped about two flights up. There were bodies laying on the stairs, and they were vampires by the smell of them. Their hearts had been torn out. It looked like someone else had already been this way and was clearing the road for him. He smiled. It was great having friends you could count on, even if they were blood sucking feigns from hell. This all might work out after all. 

There was no way that he was going to make it. She knew that. He was wounded and he was only human, and he was going up against who knows how many vampires. And there was nothing she could do. She thought about that for a moment. Maybe there was nothing that she could do, but she could radio back to base and maybe they could send help in time.   
They had been instructed to observe strict radio silence through out the mission, but from what she saw, the mission was fucked anyway. They should at least know that the mission had failed.   
Max clutched at the column next to her and secured a grip on it. She used it to pull herself up to a sitting position and pulled her radio from her belt.   
She turned it on and said, "K-mart, this is Blue Light special, come in."   
For a few moments there was only silence and then a voice said, "Blue Light special, this is Colonel Tibbets. Identify yourself. Over."   
"My name is Maxine Chalmers. Over"   
"Very good. What is the status of your mission, Chalmers? Over."   
"Not good, sir. There are only two members of the invasion team believed to be alive at this point, myself and Crusader. We've made it into the building at Kenpo Square, but we are both wounded. Over"   
"Are you armed, Chalmers? Over."   
"Yes, sir. I have a side arm and plenty of ammo for it. Over."   
"Is Crusader there with you? Over."   
"No, sir. He's gone up to try to capture the leaders alone. Over."   
Only silence for a moment from the other end.   
"Chalmers?"   
"Yes, sir?"   
"We have a situation here. We have reason to believe that Crusader is not really Crusader. We think he might even be a vampire. Over."   
Maxine's eye's widened and her breath caught in her throat. Then her shock turned to disbelief. "That's impossible." she stammered. "I've personally witnessed him killing hundreds of vampires since we got here. Besides that he also has a wound in his leg, and it's not healing like a vampire's wounds do. There's no way he's a vampire, sir. You must be mistaken. Over"   
"Here's the deal. We found the body of a man that we believe to be the real Crusader stuffed into Crusader's locker. Even if he is not a vampire, it still leads us to believe that he is working for them. Maybe he is trying to sabotage the mission. There are only two of you left, after all. Over"   
Max thought about it and had to agree, something was not right. But it just didn't make sense. Why would someone sneak their way into the UN invasion team and kill vampires the whole way into the city unless he was on their side? "Maybe he's trying to help." she said.   
"We can't risk it. The mission is being scrubbed. We want you to get out of that building. There are planes on the way, and they are going to blow it all to hell."   
"Don't do that! Please! We don't know for sure what's going on."   
"The planes arrive in fifteen minutes, Chalmers. Clear out. Over and out."   
"No, goddammit! You can't fucking do this!" she shouted into the radio. Her tirade was met with silence.   
"Fuck!" she yelled and she tossed the radio across the room. How the hell was she supposed to get out of here? She couldn't stand up with out falling over, for christ's sake. And she could leave him to die, no matter what they were saying. There must be some kind of mistake, the man she had been fighting next could not possibly be with the enemy.   
Ok, she told herself. Calm down. Make a plan. Get out of this. She had to get up and get to Crusader. Warn him, let him know what they were planning. One thing was for sure. She had to get that bullet out of her ear.   
Cursing, swearing, and dreading what she was about to do, she pulled off her back pack and detached the straps. She took hold of the metal clasp on one end and straightened it out, turning it into a strip of metal about three inches long. She gripped it in her fist, reached up, and shoved it into her ear canal. The pain was excruciating, and tears welled up in her eyes. Gritting her teeth, she pushed harder, forcing the strip of metal farther into her ear. She thought she might pass out, but kept going until she felt metal strike against metal. The bullet was lodged quite a ways in. She wiggled the metal strip, maneuvering it down behind the lump of misshapen lead, hissing in agony the entire time. Once it felt like she had gotten under it, she pushed down on the pin and began to lever the bullet out. It came out slowly and painfully, and she was cursing, crying and gasping for breath when it finally popped out and fell onto the floor next to her. She threw away the blood cover metal strip and fell onto her side.   
Just a couple of minutes, she thought. It'll stop hurting in a couple of minutes and she'd be able to get up and do what she had to do. 

Crusader came to a stop in front of the door that lead to the fourth floor of the building and mentally prepare himself for what was to come next. This was it. It was almost over. He checked his guns, and adjusted the sword in his belt for easy access. His leg was sore, but it would only slow him down a little. He was ready. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the door knob.   
There was a scrape on the stairs above his head and something very heavy landed on the landing right behind him. His hand snapped up and unholstered one of his automatics as he turned around. He almost pulled the trigger, but stopped himself when he saw who it was standing behind him.   
"Boo." said Violator. The fifteen foot tall demon from hell let out a rasping chuckle as Crusader glared at him.   
"What's with the mask, John? You look like one of those pansy assed, spandex wearing weirdos. I almost killed you before I caught your scent and realized it was you."   
John Sansker reached up and pulled off the Crusader mask and hood. "I was incognito." he said. "The only way I could get into the city alive was to pose as a vampire hunter and come in with a UN invasion force made up of super heroes."   
The demon shook his head, his huge, curved horns nearly jabbing John in the face. "How can you live with yourself? I don't care how down and out I was, you'd never see me in a get up like that. My luck, someone would snap a Polaroid and send it to my brothers, and then they'd be trying to kill me."   
"I do what I have to do to get by. " said John. "Speaking of your brothers, how's Van?"   
"We got that safe you dropped into him out, but now he's complaining about hemorrhoids alot. It was his own damn fault, though. He shouldn't be such a dick all the time." ( Sansker dropped a large safe down Vandalizer's gullet way back in Sansker: 2200 # 4)   
"You know, if I could have done it any other way I would have." said John. " He didn't leave me any choice."   
"Don't sweat it. Fuck him if he can't take a joke. What's the plan here, my man?"   
"We're after a fellow by the name of Mark Trevors. He stole my heart."   
Violator stared at him for a moment, his large bug-like eyes unblinking. "You don't mean. . " he cocked his head, as if studying John and trying to figure something out. "I mean, this isn't some kind of. . .um, how can I put this delicately. . .gay. . .thing. . .is it?"   
It was John's turn to stare. "Gay thing?"   
"You said he stole your heart. You ain't in love with him, or something, are you? Cause I got to tell you, I'm an old fashioned kinda demon and. . ."   
"Shut up, ya moron. No, it's not a gay thing. He stole my heart, literally. The guy has my blood pumping organ beating away in his chest. Jesus, Vi, how can you be so stupid?"   
Violator breathed a sigh of relief and swiped at his brow with one of his long forearms. "Thank the enemy." he said. "You scared the shit out of me. First you're wearing super hero duds and then you seem to be talking like you're in love with the guy. You gotta be careful with how you phrase things, John."   
"I'll try. Now do you think you can shut up for a moment and listen?"   
Violator nodded.   
"Ok. We can't kill this guy. I need you to remove the heart from his chest and have it still beating."   
"That's my specialty!" said Vi.   
"I know." said John. "That's why I invited you on this shindig."   
"Man, you think of everything. What's this thieving piece of shit look like?"   
"He's about 5/10, short brown hair. He's going to smell a little like me cause he has my heart."   
"Got it." said Vi. "If I find him do you want me to just hold on to him and call for you?"   
"That's not going to work. He's got all my old powers, so he's going to be too hard to handle. Just move in quick and get the heart, then find me as fast as you can."   
"Right on." said Violator. "Are all the other vampires fair game?"   
"Kill all you want." John told him.   
"Sweet."   
"The let's do it." Sansker reached for the door knob and opened the door.   
Violator put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him for a moment before they went through the door. "You know, John." he said. "I haven't killed anyone for months. I think I was getting into some kind of slump there. Thanks for calling me. I needed this."   
"No problem." said John. "All us old bastards have to stick together, after all. Come on." They went through the door, and the carnage began.   
John emptied both his guns into the vampires waiting for them on the other side of the door and then tossed them away in favor of his sword. The vampires howled as he ripped them to pieces with his blade.   
The demon was snatching up vampires, sniffing them for a second and then popping their heads off. He seemed to be having the time of his life, laughing his sick rasping laugh and moving from one enemy to the next. He jumped over a cubicle partition and landed in the middle of a small group of vampires that had been hiding from them. He tore into them, biting, clawing, kicking, and impaling them on his horns. The horn on his back snapped forward over and over again like a scorpion's tail, punching holes in heads and torsos. Entrails dangled from the horns on the side of his head like wet dripping earrings. He found himself humming an old country song, "I fall to pieces."   
John went through the cubicles and offices of the fourth floor, killing vampires and searching for Mark Trevors. He quickly ran out of rooms to explore and enemies to kill, so he figured Mark must be on the next floor up.   
"Hey, Vi!"   
"Yeah, John?"   
"I think it's all clear down here. We need to go upstairs."   
"Be right with you." said Vi. "I got some guy's goddamn intestines wrapped around my fucking foot."   
He came stumbling into view, hunched over because of the low ceiling and trying to sling off a piece of entrail that was wrapped around his ankle. "This is great, John! I feel like I'm three hundred years old again!"   
The took the stairs two at a time, reaching the fifth floor in just a couple of seconds. Violator went through the door first, dodging bullets and snatching up the nearest vampires. Heads popped like pimples in his massive hands, spraying the ceiling with gray matter   
John raced past him, diving into the fray with sword flashing. Someone piled into him from the side and knocked him to the ground. He scrambled to his feet and swiped at them with his sword. As they dodged the blow he recognized his enemy. Mark Trevors.   
"John Sansker." said Mark. "Imagine my surprise. Aren't you supposed to be dead?"   
"I like to be unpredictable." said John as he made an uppercut that would have ripped Mark in half had it landed. Mark spun around the arc of the blade and back handed John in the side of the head. John stumbled and almost fell. Is that how strong I used to be? he wondered. Mark wasn't even trying and he had nearly taken his head off.   
"You got a lot of balls coming after me, John. I got all your old powers, and it looks like you got nothing." He slapped away one of John's sword swipes and jabbed his knee into his gut, driving the air out of him. John fell over, wheezing and feebly swinging his sword.   
"You look like you moving in slow motion to me. Like you're running through cold molasses or something."   
Sansker got to his knees and then lunged forward, attempting to stab Mark through the gut. Mark dodged to the side and slammed the heel of his hand into John's chin. John was thrown up into the air and backwards, his limbs flailing around. He landed badly and felt the bones in his right shoulder snap.   
"That didn't sound good, John. Was that your shoulder or did I get lucky and snap your neck?"   
John didn't answer. He just lay there on his back, too hurt to move.   
"I'm just going to finish you off now, and this time, I'll make sure you're dead." Mark stepped over John and and reached for his head.   
John took in a deep breath. "Vi!" he shouted. "I could really use some help about now."   
"Sure thing." said a voice from right behind Mark. Mark's chest exploded in a spray of blood, making John flinch when his face was splattered with gore. When he opened his eyes he saw Violator's hand sticking out through Mark's chest, John's beating heart in his grasp. The ends of the artery and vein sticking from each end of the heart wiggled around as if searching for something and they made little sucking sounds.   
"This belongs to you, I believe?" said the demon.   
Mark looked down and gasped in fear and pain. "Wha-?" was all he could manage before his eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed on Violator's arm.   
"Hey, John, can you grab your heart for a second? I gotta get this guy offa my arm."   
John took the heart from the demon's grasp and it continued to wiggle and pump in his hands. It was hard to hold onto.   
"There." said Violator as he slung Mark across the room. "Well. you got your heart back. What do you want to do now?"   
"I want you to put it back in." said John.   
"What? How?"   
"The same way you took it out of him. Just put it right in."   
"But that would kill you!"   
"Once it's back in me I'll have all my powers back. I'll heal in no time at all."   
"I don't know." said the demon. "Shouldn't you have a surgeon do it?"   
"No, I want you to do it. Now. Help me up so we can get this over with."   
Violator grabbed him by the shoulders and stood him up on his own two feet. "Here." said John, carefully handing him the heart.   
"You're sure about this?"   
"Yes, do it. Now, before the heart dies."   
"Ok, whatever you say." Violator pulled back his arm and then snapped it forward, piercing John's chest with his heart in his hand. John gasp and went rigid. Violator let go of the heart and withdrew his hand. Sansker's knees went weak and he fell to the floor. He lay there, curled up into a fetal position and convulsing.   
"John?" said Violator as he leaned over his friend for a closer look. "You okay, buddy? You don't look so good."   
John rolled over onto his back, stretched out his arms and legs and took a deep breath. "Good?" he said, his face breaking out into a smile. "I feel GREAT!" The hole in the middle of his chest had disappeared. He got to his feet, stretching and flexing his arms and legs. A bloody tampon fell out of the end of his pant leg. "I feel so alive. I feel like some kind of fucking god!" His muscles were expanding, doubling in mass. He had felt so weak for so long, it felt wonderful to feel like his old self again. He flexed his chest and shoulders and the uniform he was wearing shredded itself under the strain. He tore off the shredded shirt, revealing the strange, mystical tattoos he had all over his torso. He clenched and unclenched his hands and claws extended from his fingertips. He giggled with delight. He wished those rednecks down in Del Ray were here right now. (Sansker 2200 # 7) "I just want to kill something." he told Violator. "Just take something living into my hands and rip it to pieces. And I'm thirsty. I feel like I could drink a whole lake of blood. Come on, let's go on a rampage."   
He started through the corpse filled room towards the staircase.   
"I thought we were on a rampage." said Violator. "You're going to top this?" He indicated all the bodies with a wave of his hand.   
"Oh, yeah." said John. "I'm going to paint the town red."   
Then he saw Maxine standing in the doorway.   
"You son of a bitch." she said. Her hands were clenched into fists and her eyes were narrowed into hateful slits.   
"Who's this?" said Vi.   
"Trouble." said John. This was unexpected. How had she managed to recover? He had counted her as down and out.   
"I'll handle it." said the demon as he launched himself at Maxine.   
"No!" John shouted in warning, but it was too late. Max pulled back her arm and sank her fist into the Violator's face. Vi flew backwards, sailing past John, trailing broken teeth and strands of blood. He crashed into the wall at the opposite end of the building, slid to the floor and then fell forward onto his belly.   
"John." he slurred through a broken jaw. "I'm going to let you handle this one."   
"I trusted you." Max stepped towards John. "You used me, you blood sucking bastard,"   
"What can I do to make it up to you?" asked John as he backed up, his hands in the air.   
"You can fucking die!" she screamed and she jumped at him.   
He side stepped as she threw her first punch, grabbing her arm and slinging her into the wall. She recovered and laid a left into his jaw. He shook it off and slashed his claws across her face, tearing away huge flaps of skin and laying her bare to the bone. Lunging forward, she head butted him, dousing him in her own blood. He felt his skull crack from the blow and jumped away from her. She followed, delivering punches to his gut and when he turned to avoid those, she pounded his kidneys. He spun, dropping as he did and making a sweeping kick that took her legs out from under her. He regained his feet as she fell and jumped in close enough to kick her in the head. She grabbed a hold of his foot and then rolled the other way, dragging him with her. He went up into the air and then came down hard on the ground, landing on his chin. A second later she landed on his back, with a knee driving into his spine. John reached up and behind, grabbed a hold of her head and threw her forward. He crawled after her but she put a boot into his face and knocking him away. They got to their feet and closed in on each other, keeping low and trying to not give each other a target. Maxine lashed out with her foot, trying to break his knee. John caught the foot and while keeping her off balance, delivered two bell ringers to the side of her head. Maxine jumped into the air using her other leg and brought it up to kick him in the solar plexus. His ribs cracking, he was forced to let go and fall backwards. She back flipped and landed on her feet.   
From outside came the sound of approaching aircraft. Maxine turned and looked out the window, her expression one of horror. The bombs.   
John noticed the look on her face. "What?!" he spat out, suddenly afraid.   
Maxine ran towards the nearest window and dove through the glass. She dropped feet first towards the pavement four stories below.   
Deciding that she must know something he didn't, John started after her a few seconds later. He didn't make it. He heard several large booms as the aircraft passed over head and then the world collapsed around him. 

**Meanwhile-** As far as the caverns of hell go, the Law offices of Greed and Deceit were very nice. Persian rugs covered the floors, only they weren't really Persian because the country had been known as Babylon when they had been acquired. Rare painting and original photographs hung on the wall, a wide range of artists from Borsch to Barker to Anne Geddes. There were low wattage lamps on all the coffee tables, lamps that were covered with shades that looked like they had been made from human skin. Several of the shades bore tattoos. A license to practice law was hanging next to the door, and it had been signed by Lucifer himself (as are all licenses to practice law, you just have to look real close down in the bottom in all the fine print.) .   
Gathered in this room was some of the highest ranking demons of hell. When Armageddon finally arrived, it would be these evil creatures that would command the armies of hell in battle. There had been fights between the demons in this room before. They had struggled against each other, manipulating and cheating their way as they tried to add more souls to the respective armies and improve their standing in the eyes of Lucifer. But those squabbles were all put aside today. They were gathered in this place to hear the last will and testament of a dear friend, Vladar Pudervrag.   
The attorney Greed was reading the will.   
"To my dear old pit mate Pedenigmatalyn I leave my bottomless pit of shit and pus. Know that if such a thing was allowed in a place like this, I would say that I love you. You were there for me during the good times and the bad. There were days that I didn't fill evil and you were there to make me feel evil. I thank you. Please enjoy the comfort that only a bottomless pit of shit and pus can bring and take a moment to remember your old friend when you do."   
To Syphilitic Frenzy, I leave my magic snowball. It was created for me by a Xorgal Dimensional Wizard and has survived in the heat of this place we call home for twenty seven thousand years. On a particularly hot night, stuff it down into your underwear as I often did and think of me."   
And finally, to my colleague and sometime adversary Malbolgia I leave all the souls I have collected over the last hundred thousand years. This may seem shocking to some, but you must understand that while I've had my battles with Malbolgia and have always spoken of him in an ill manner, I do in fact have the utmost respect for him and have always found him to be a worthy adversary. He is a devil after my own heart and I believe he will use these souls wisely and for the benefit of all of hell. In the end, that's what matters. That we win the war. "   
Good Bye Friends, I hope to see you in the hereafter,   
Yours in Mischief   
Vladar Pudervrag" 

As the demons filed out of the office, Malbolgia accepted the stack of soul deeds from the attorney, balancing the four hundred and fifty foot pile of papers carefully in his hand. Incredible, he thought to himself. His was now by far the largest of hell's armies. And not pathetic souls, either. Pudervrag always had excellent taste in souls and the skill to obtain them. This stack would be full of warriors, killers, soldiers, and Pudervrag's favorite of all, gunfighters.   
Malbolgia glanced at the deed on the top of the stack and his eyes widened. The name on the deed was John Sansker. Pudervrag had finally gotten him to sign on the dotted line?! Sansker had been a pursuit of Pudervrag's for some five hundred years, and everyone in hell knew it Most laughed about it. No soul was worth that much trouble. Pudervrag had ignored them though. He said that the soul of a cold blooded bastard like John Sansker was a valuable thing indeed. He had spent half a millennium to get that signature, and it seemed that right before he died, he finally had. And now the soul belonged to Malbolgia. 

The first thought that came into John's mind was, "I'm alive!" He was pinned under a one ton slab of concrete, sure, but by god he was alive. He laughed as he lifted the chunk of cement up and pulled himself free. He had survived another ordeal. He waited a moment for his legs to heal properly and then he got shakily to his feet. Taking in a deep breath of air, he stood in the middle of the buildings rubble and bellowed with laughter.   
"Fuck you all! I'm alive! You can't kill me! No one can kill me! 'Cause I'm John fucking Sansker!"   
There was a whistle behind him. He turned to see Maxine standing there and saw the piece of rebar in her hand. In one swift motion she stabbed with the piece of jagged metal and plunged it into his head. The world went black for John. 

After she had radioed the base, they came for her and found her sitting next to the bombed out building with the body of John Sansker.   
"Careful." she told them. "He's not dead. If you take out that piece of metal in his brain he will regenerate. Only one way to kill a vampire, and that's to stab them through the heart. He taught me that."   
She felt numb, and very tired. She wanted to go home.   


* * *

  
_**~Fin-Fan-Fic-Fanatics~**Letters and comments from readers. Do I rock or do I suck? Write me and tell me what you think. If you don't want your comments put in this letters column, or if you want them taken out, please let me know._   
**If you want to read other stuff I have written, try [Bad Monkey Comics][3]**   
**Well, there it is. For better or worse, that's the end of my Sansker/Dragon crossover. I'm always amazed at how much stories write themselves. This one took off in a lot of directions that I hadn't originally planned. This is probably the last time I will write the Sansker character and I wasn't entirely sure how I wanted to end his story. I thought about killing him off, but that didn't sit to well with me. I didn't want to just let him walk away from it all happy either. So I leave him in the custody of the United Nations (who are none to happy with him) and I leave his soul in the possession of Malbolgia. One of the things I never did incorporate in this last issue that I wanted to was his ability to change into snake form. There just never seemed to be a good opportunity for him to change during his fight with Maxine. In the original Bloodfued comics he had to strip naked and then it took a minute for him to shapeshift. I wanted the fight to be fast and fierce, so his shapeshifting wasn't a practical thing. I used it twice before in the Sansker 2200 series so that will have to suffice.**   
** I hope you have enjoyed this arc, it's a relief for me to finish it. I started writing this Sansker storyline a long time ago and I'm glad it's finally over. Maybe someday I'll get the urge to continue it. I can't see Sansker staying locked up for long, and I don't think that he would like the idea that someone else owns his soul. Here is the letter I got this time.******

As for #10, I loved it. As soon as I read "pool of blood" and "I've   
told only you," I knew it was going to be Crusader, but I must admit, I'm   
stumped about who's in his place, since you didn't include Phantom Master in   
this. Btw, you haven't told the readers who the PM is yet- in the story,   
anyway. That was an e-mail discussion you and I had. I wasn't suggesting   
that he be a traitor to the team, just that Maxine having to divide her   
attention between vampires and her doubts about the PM would be interesting.   
But that was just idle chitchat. You know me- I'm gonna sit back and enjoy   
the ride, no matter where you go with this. I'm diggin' it like that frog to   
Sugar Smacks.   
"Dig 'em! Dig 'em!"   
C.L. Bishop =>   
  
**I'm glad you liked it, C. L.. Sorry for the spoilers I laid on you. I had hoped that everybody would figure out that Crusader was Sansker at the end of last issue, but apparently I guard my secrets and subplots a little too well. I hope you enjoy how it all turned out and thanks for writing.**

   [1]: mailto:bcampo@hotmail.com
   [2]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html
   [3]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/



	13. Dragon 2200 # 12

The Dragon 2200 # 12 The Dragon: 2200 

# 12 

by [Brian Campo][1] (bcampo@hotmail.com)   
(A bad, bad little monkey. ) 

**This is a work of fan fiction.** The Savage Dragon and all related characters are owned by Erik Larsen, and I do not contest   
that ownership. This story is in no way official and it should not be taken as such. All characters in this story not owned by Mr.   
Larsen are owned by me, though I would gladly loan them out if asked nicely. 

**Warning:** This story may contain graphic violence, sexual situations and harsh language. If you shouldn't be reading it, don't. 

Visit the Dragon 2200 home page for back issues and covers ([http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html][2]) 

Dan Williams came into his mom's kitchen through the back door. His mother looked up from her morning paper and said good morning to him as he made a bee line for the refrigerator. He grunted in reply to her. At this point he could only concentrate on one thing. Finding food and shoveling it into his mouth Until he did that he would be useless for conversation or anything else for that matter. He reminded Janet of one of the zombies from the the old living dead movies, looking half asleep and willing to eat anything. Thankfully, she was used to his early morning antics and went right back to reading her paper.   
He stared into the fridge, scanning it's contents for something high in sugar content. There were some yogurts, but that seemed just a little too healthy for his taste. Fruit. Eggs. Left overs. His stomach grumbled, encouraging him to hurry up and find something. He grabbed one of the gallon jugs of milk and closed the fridge Leaving the milk sitting on the counter, he dropped to one knee and threw open a cabinet full of pots and pans. The sound of pots slamming together filled the kitchen as he dug through the contents of the cabinet. A minute later he stood up with a large mixing bowl in his hands. He threw open another cabinet, revealing eight or nine boxes of cereal. He looked for one with a cartoon character on the front and pulled it out. Janet looked up from her paper as he opened the box and started filling the mixing bowl with it.   
"That Peanut Butter Captain Crunch is Maxine's, Daniel. She's going to kill you if she catches you eating it."   
"She isn't even here." said Dan. As far as he knew Max was still in Hong Kong or on a ship somewhere out in the Pacific. "Besides, she probably won't remember how much she had left anyway. What she don't know don't hurt her." The last of the cereal was falling out the box now. He stopped pouring for a second and considered the situation. It was better to be safe than sorry. He grabbed a handful of the cereal in the bowl and dropped it back into the box. There, now he wasn't eating it all.   
"So, while the cat's away the mice will play, huh?" Janet looked at something just over Dan's shoulder and smiled.   
Dan was too busy trying to get the lid off of the milk to notice. "Something like that."   
Maxine leaned over his shoulder and whispered into his ear. "Well, this pussy is back in town, you little turd."   
Dan jerked in surprise, popping off the lid and dropping the jug. The jug landed square on it's bottom on the counter and a little milk splattered from it onto the counter top. "Max!" he said happily, and more than a little sheepishly. "When did you get back?"   
"Late last night." said Maxine. She grabbed a napkin out of the dispenser and wiped up the milk he had spilled.   
Dan took a step back and looked her over. She had bandages over a good portion of her face and what looked like bruises on every other piece of exposed skin that he could see. "You look like shit." he said.   
"You get your face ripped off by a vampire. We'll see how good you look. Not to mention getting punched, kicked, bitten, shot and having part of a building fall on me."   
Dan continued to look her over as she spoke and noticed with no small amount of shock that she was dressed for work. "Hey! Why in the hell are you in uniform?! You're not thinking about going to work today, are you?"   
"Yep." answered Maxine.   
"No, no, no." he said as he shook his head. " You should be in bed resting."   
"After all these years it looks like I finally found my mother." said Maxine with a joking smile. "and she's a skinny little man with a bad hair cut."   
Dan chuckled and said, "Fuck you, Max."   
"Language." chimed in his mother.   
Dan ignored his mother and said, "Just look at you. You look like you tried to scrub your face with a chain saw. How could you be wanting to work today? You could call in sick and no one would say a thing."   
"It's all superficial." said Max. "I've spent the last four days in medical on board the Majestic and I just about went nuts from boredom. The last thing I want is more bed rest. I may look like shit but I feel just fine on the inside. I feel like I'm ready to rumble. I even got a note from the doctor on the ship saying that I was good to go."   
Dan just shook his head in wonder. "You're a glutton for punishment. You know that?"   
Max tapped the edge of the mixing bowl with her finger and said, "Who's a glutton?"   
Dan started to stammer out some excuse that he was just looking for the prize. Max called him a jerk and started putting the cereal back in the box. 

Half an hour later they were driving to work in the patrol car that Dan took home with him every night. He was telling her about how much press she had been getting.   
"For the last couple of days you've been all that's on the boob tube. They just keep showing this shaky footage that someone got of you standing over that vampire you captured. And they keep calling it breaking news even though they haven't found out anything new for days. Poor bastards kept trying to milk a story out of the ordeal but nobody was giving them shit in the way of information."   
"They kept trying to get interviews with me the whole time I was on the Majestic." said Max. " I didn't want to talk to anybody so the security was keeping them at bay. I heard that a few reporters even got arrested trying to sneak onto the ship."   
"Face it." Dan told her.. "You're a bit of a celebrity now. You did what hundreds of other people couldn't do. You took down that piece of shit, Sansker. I'm just glad that nobody knows that you live with my mom or the press would be camping out on the front lawn."   
Max said that she was glad, too. "I just feel bad that everyone is making me out to be this big hero and I'm anything but. I mean, I went in with a team of super heroes that are a lot better than me at what they do and they're all dead. Combine that with the fact that I got suckered into helping John Sansker get his heart back and I don't see anything that I did that was all that heroic. I don't even know if I would have been able to capture him if I hadn't been able to sneak up behind him. The whole time I was there I was second guessing every move I made and trying to keep from running away in fear. I killed a bunch of vampires and everyone keeps telling me that it's not the same as killing a human being, but I have to wonder about that. Most of them were probably just defending their homes, nothing that I wouldn't do. I don't think I'll remember any of this as my brightest hour."   
"Are you sure that you're ready to go back to work?" asked Dan. "Maybe you need more time to sort through all this crap."   
"No, no." she said, waving him off. "I'll be fine. I think I just need to stay busy, ya know?"   
Dan shrugged and said, "If you say so. You talked to your main squeeze? Mom said he called a couple hundred times last week."   
"I know. She told me. I talked to him a few days ago from the Majestic. He's pissed at me."   
"Why for?"   
Max growled with irritation. "I forgot to call him the night that I shipped out to tell him what was going on and by the time I remembered I was on the ship and they were observing communications silence. No calls going in or out. I didn't get a chance to call him until the whole thing was over. He was bitching that I disappeared off of the face of the earth and the first thing he knows I'm on the news and I've been in a war. I tried to tell him that there was no way I could get a hold of him but he was being to much of a jerk to listen. He hung up on me. Haven't heard from him since."   
"Hmmm." said Dan. "Trouble in paradise. I tried to tell you he was all wrong for you."   
Max rolled her eyes at Dan and ignored his comment. 'Well, I hope he pulls his head out his ass pretty soon. I said I was sorry and there's nothing else I can do. We have a good thing going and it would be a shame to loose it just because he wants to be stubborn."   
Dan pulled the car into the parking garage and shut it down. They got out and headed into the precinct.   
"It's great that you're back." he told her as they navigated their way upstairs. "Hughes has had me on desk duty the whole time you were gone cause I didn't have a freak partner to go cruising with. I actually had to sort through all those reports that I've been 'filing' over the last six months. It was Hell."   
"Well, we won't be here long. Just let me sort through my mail and messages." she told him. "Then we'll go out and bust some heads."   
Fellow officers stopped them along the way to slap Max on the back and tell her what a great job she did in Hong Kong. A few joked that they wanted her autograph. Max laughed and thanked them, feeling more embarrassed than proud. Most told her that she looked like shit. Captain Hughes flagged them down on the staircase and asked Maxine what the hell she was doing at work. She explained how it was all superficial and that she was just fine. He read the note from the navy doctor and told her that he guessed it would be okay if she worked but to try and take it easy and to be sure to go home if she was having any pain. She assured him that she would.   
When they finally got to her desk she was stunned by the pile of mail waiting there. There were hundreds of letters in one big heap that pretty much covered her desktop. She thumbed through the top few and saw the names of magazine publishers, news paper publishers, super hero teams from around the world, letters from attorneys and marketing agents. Others were more personal looking letters, some of which had addresses written in a child's scrawl. This is ridiculous, she thought. What is wrong with all these people? Find a real hero for christ's sake. She shoved some of them aside to get a look at her answering machine and saw that she had four hundred and fifty-six messages.   
When Dan saw that he just groaned. "We're never going to get out of here."   
Max stared at the pile of letters for a few seconds and then said, "No. I'll just sort through them and see if there's anything really important in there. The rest I'll box up and take home with me tonight. I'll forward all this voice mail home, too. Trust me, I really don't want to spend today inside reading mail."   
"Right on." said Dan. "I'll tell you what. While you look through it I'll head over to supply and see if they have any empty boxes. All right?"   
"Sounds good." said Max. Dan walked away as she picked up a handful of the letters and began to thumb through then. She separated them as well as she could without opening the envelopes to see what the sender wanted. The phone rang a couple of times, but she let the machine take it as she continued sorting. The calls were from television stations trying to secure an interview with her. That was something Max had absolutely no interest in.   
A large manila envelope caught her attention. She sat down the rest of the letters in her hands and pulled it out of the stack. There was no return address on the front so she flipped it over to see if there was one on the back. No. That's odd, she thought. She ripped the top of the envelope off and looked inside. She could see the back of what looked like eight by ten photos. She flipped the envelope back over and pulled out the stack of pictures. On top of the pics was a post it note with what looked like a cell phone number written on it. "Who the hell would be sending me pictures?" she wondered as she looked over the the top pic. It took a moment for her to realize what she was looking at. When she did, she gasped in shock.   
Suddenly, she was finding that it was hard to breathe, and her face was flushing. Her pulse started pounding in her ears. What the fuck?! What the fuck?!! She took a quick look around, making sure no one else was looking and then quickly sat down in her chair. She held the stack of photos down below the edge of her desk where no one could see them and flipped through the rest of the stack. More of the same. She bit down on her lip so hard that it made her eyes water. Where had they gotten these? Who the fuck did this?   
"Hey, what's wrong, Max?" She looked up to see Dan approaching with a cardboard box in his hands.   
"Nothing." she said a little too quickly and way too angrily. Dan stopped in his tracks, confused. She tried shoving the pictures back into the envelope but only succeeded in crumpling the photos and ripping the envelope. It was clear to him that she was very upset   
"What?!" said Dan, worriedly. "What is it, Max?"   
"None of your goddamn business." she shouted at him. People all around the room were turning to look at the commotion. Max folded the pics in half and then was finally able to shove them into the remains of the envelope. Tears were flowing now as she stood up and tried to shove the envelope into her jacket. It fell out and landed on the floor. Dan stooped to pick it up for her but she snatched it away before he had a chance. She got it into her jacket pocket this time and strode quickly for the door.   
"Where are you going?! I thought we were-"   
"Girl trouble, Dan. Get off of my fucking back!"   
When she was gone Dan just stood there wondering what the hell he should do. He looked around the office and noticed people staring at him.   
"What?!" he said. "I don't know what her problem is." 

She ran two blocks away from the station before she stopped and found a phone booth. Once she was inside and had the door closed she took a moment to catch her breath and figure out what she was doing. First things first. She would have to call the phone number on the post-it note. Who knew what they would do with pictures if she didn't. Who was doing this? And why?   
Where had she put that number? For one horrible second she thought she might have left it sitting on her desk and she would have to go back and face all those cops that had just seen her throw her little tantrum.. But then she remembered seeing it on the stack of pictures when she had been trying to get them into the envelope. That meant she was going to have to take them out again. She sobbed out an expletive and pulled the envelope out of her jacket pocket. If she was careful, maybe she could get the number out of the envelope without having to look at the pictures inside. Reaching into the envelope she felt around until she found the little post-it note. She took it out and stuck it to the top of the pay phone. Then she dug some change out of her pocket, and picked up the receiver before dialing the number. It rang twice and then was picked up on the other end.   
"Miss Chalmers?"   
Max didn't recognize the voice. "Yeah, this is me. Who is this?"   
"You don't need to know that. Shut up and listen carefully. Wait where you are for fifteen minutes. When fifteen minutes has passed, catch a taxi. Go to the parking lot of the ThriftSmart store on Virginia street. You will see a black van with an open sunroof parked there. Walk up to the driver side and tell them your name and then do what ever he tells you to do. Don't tell anyone else where you are going, and don't do anything but what you have been told to do. If you do anything that you haven't been told to do copies of the pictures get sent out to the press. You're being watched."   
The connection went dead. Max pulled the post-it note off of the phone and tucked it into her pants pocket. Then the envelope and pictures went back into her jacket pocket. She stepped out of the phone booth and waited nearby until her watch said fifteen minutes had passed. At that point she caught the first cab that would stop for her. The cab started across town toward the ThriftSmart grocery store on Virginia. Max hardly noticed the time passing as she sat in the back and worried. What could these people be hoping to gain by doing this to her? If it was blackmail, didn't they realize that she wasn't wealthy? Cops got shit pay. Everybody knew that.   
The driver startled her from her thoughts when he said, "We're here, ma'am." She realized that they had been stopped for a while now.   
"I'm sorry." She said. "I've got a lot on my mind today."   
"No problem. Fifteen bucks, ma'am."   
She paid him and got out of the cab.   
She spotted the van right away. It was parked close to the road and looked like a classic example of what cops called a Rape-mobile. No windows in the back, tinted windows up front.. It looked like someone was sitting in the drivers seat but from what she could see through the tinted windows the rest of the van was empty. There was no guaranteeing it, though. It was possible that someone else was hiding on the floor of the van. She walked up to the drivers side and looked in. The man sitting there wasn't anybody that she knew. He looked like a real sleaze ball with long greasy hair, a pimply face and an extra chin. The black T-shirt that he was wearing was two sizes too small and had the words "sex machine" written across the front of it in large, bold red type. He turned to look at her as she walked closer and eyed her like she was a steak that had just come off the grill.   
"I'm Maxine Chalmers." she said to him.   
"That's what I figured." he replied. "You're pretty easy to recognize with that fin and your green skin. What I want you to do is put your hands up here and grab the edges of my window. Then just stand still. Someone is going to come riding up behind you on a motorcycle and they're going to remove your gun from your gun belt. Don't turn around or do anything stupid, 'cause you've been told what would happen."   
She did as she was told and leaned forward against the van with her hands on the edge of the window. A few seconds later what sounded like a dirt bike started up across the parking lot and it drove over towards Maxine and the van. It slowed down and then came to an idling rest behind Maxine. She felt hands go up under her jacket and then her gun was lifted out of it's holster. She looked sideways at the drivers side mirror and caught a glimpse of the man on the bike. He was tucking her hand cannon away into his saddle bag. He was wearing a helmet with a tinted face plate so there was no way to tell what he looked like. Once he got the gun secured he sat back down on the bike's seat and rode away.   
"Come around to the passenger side and get in." said the man in the van.   
Maxine walked around and got in. The driver held out a black cloth bag.   
"Put it on over your head. Pull it all the way down so that I'm sure you can't see anything. Don't take it off unless you're told to."   
She hesitated. She didn't like where this was going. He saw the look on her face and said, "Just do it. The boss isn't going to like it if you don't cooperate."   
Begrudgingly, Max took the bag and pulled it over her head.   
"Good girl.." She heard the man say. "Now, just sit back and relax. We're going to take a little ride." He started the van and pulled out onto the street. Max couldn't see a thing. There was no way of telling which way they were going She sat still in the passenger seat and listened carefully, hoping she might hear some sound that might give her a clue as to her location. The only thing of interest she heard was what sounded like the dirt bike following along behind them. Was he there for back up if Max attacked the driver? He did have Max's gun, so she considered him a threat. They didn't have to worry. Max had no intention of doing anything until she found out who was doing this to her and why.   
As distracted as she was with her thoughts there was no way to keep track of how much time was passing as they drove. It didn't seem like too much time had passed, though, when the drivers stopped the van and killed the engine.   
"Leave the bag on." he told her. "I'll come around and get you and then I'll take you inside." She heard the driver's door open and the van shifted as he slid his hefty body out of the seat. Footsteps circled around the front of the van and then her door was opened. She felt his hand take hold of her arm right above the elbow. She allowed herself to be helped out of the van and lead away. Somewhere near by she heard the dirt bike pull up and shut off.   
She was lead for about fifty feet and then the man said, "Careful, we're coming up on some stairs. You feel them? Easy does it." He helped her up them and then across what she thought might be a wooden porch. Sound of a screen door opening and her guide knocking on a door. The door squeaked open and she was lead over a threshold. She heard people whispering. How many? She thought she heard five or six different voices. They kept walking and started down what felt like a hallway. Another doorway and she was lead into the middle of a room. The door was shut behind them.   
"Take off her mask." someone said. Her body reacted before she even realized that she recognized the voice. One second she was okay, but the instant she heard that voice she was breaking out in cold sweats and her knees were threatening to collapse out from under her. Her head ducked down and she cringed, as if expecting a brutal blow.   
oh, no. no, no, no, a little voice in her head was chanting. He's dead, it can't be him. They're all dead. He said they were all dead, no, please no, not him.   
Her mask was pulled off of her head but she kept her eyes closed, too afraid to open them and confirm what her ears were hearing.   
"Sit down, Ginny." said the voice.   
Stark, raving terror. There was only one person who had ever called her that. No, not him. She was shivering, shuddering with fear, and she couldn't stop. She desperately wanted a corner that she could crawl into and curl up and go to sleep and wake up later and it would only be a bad dream.   
She was slapped silly, backhanded so hard that she spun and fell to the floor. "I said sit down!" he roared at her. She put her hands up and cover her head. "Get off the fucking floor and get your ass in that chair!"   
She could only obey. When it came to Victor you had two choices. You could do as you were told, or he could beat the living piss out of you and you would do as you were told anyway. She opened her eyes, located the chair and scrambled off of the floor and into it. She looked around the room quickly, taking it in. It was dark and sparsely furnished. There was a desk in one corner and a couple of wooden chairs and that was it. There was a window on one wall but it had been boarded over and no light got through it. A single dim bulb in the ceiling was the only source of illumination. There were four other men in the room other than Maxine and HIM.   
"Look at me."   
She locked eyes on the floor. If she looked at him and it was him there was no way she could keep telling herself that he was dead and this was just somebody that sounded like him. How does he know her real name? How does he know?   
"Don't make me hurt you, Ginny. You look at me, or so help me god I will-"   
She did it. By pure force of will she made her eyes come up and look right at him. I'm going to faint, she thought. Sweet Jesus, it's him and he's alive and he's found me.   
His name was Victor. He looked older than she remembered him, but just as vicious as he ever did. He was the nightmare she woke up from every night. Boogie men? He was the boogie man.   
"Get me a chair." he said to one of the men standing behind him. They did as he said, and quickly. He scooted the chair up close to Maxine and sat down on it. He leaned forward and she quickly leaned back, afraid he was going to touch her.   
"Relax." he said. "We're just going to talk. You don't give me any foolishness and there won't be any trouble."   
Several seconds passed as she sat staring at him and trying to stop shaking. "What do you want.?" she asked.   
"I just want the things that belong to me. Like you for instance." His hand reached out and touched her knee. She jerked it away and he smiled.   
"You don't own me." said Maxine. "You never have."   
"Oh, but you're wrong. Even when someone else had bought and paid for you, I owned you then. You know it and I know it. It wasn't the owners that kept you in line and made you do what you had to do. It was me, your handler. You knew who your master was and you know who your master is now."   
"No! I'm my own person. You can't own me!" She could feel her fear starting to turn into anger. She'd had control of her life for so long and now here he was trying to take it away from her. She clenched her hands into fists and started to lean forward.   
"Sit back." said Victor. "Or I'll slap the living shit out of you."   
She hesitated for a moment, trying to will herself to lay into him like she so desperately wanted. She couldn't do it. She was too afraid. Eyes watering and lip quivering she slumped back into the chair.   
"That's what I thought." said Victor. "Still a scared little girl. Now, lets talk about those photos and what you are going to do for me so that I don't show the world what a dirty little slut you are." He sat back in his chair and made himself comfortable. "Recently, some associates of mine lost four hundred pounds of cocaine when some of the Officers at your precinct arrested their drug runners and confiscated the drugs. These drugs are still sitting in the evidence locker of you police station waiting to be disposed of. I want you to get them back for me."   
Max was stunned. This was worse than she had anticipated. She had expected that she would be black mailed for money but they were wanting her to steal evidence right out of the police station. "No." she said. "I can't. I'd lose my job and I'd go to jail."   
"You can and you will. You'll only run into trouble if you get caught. I suggest you don't do that. If you don't do it I send out copies of the photos. If that's not enough to convince you, I will fucking kill you and you know that I can do it."   
"You said it was four hundred pounds." Max wiped her eyes and nose on the sleeve of her shirt. She felt close to hysteria. "How am I supposed to sneak four hundred pounds of cocaine out of a police station?"   
"Actually," said Victor. " we've already considered that and devised a way for you to do it.. Derek? The device."   
One of the other men in the room picked something up off of the desk and brought it over to Victor. To Maxine, it looked like a toy gun. Like something Buck Rogers might carry.   
"You will use this." said Victor as he accepted the gun from his assistant. "It's a shrinking device left over from an alien invasion that occurred back in the twentieth century. If you shoot the pile of cocaine with it it'll become a miniature that you can easily slip into your pocket and walk out of the police station with. Once you have made your escape, call the cell phone number you called earlier. We'll make arrangements to meet and take the coke of your hands. If you are careful no one will ever know what you took the stuff."   
Max covered her eyes with one hand and wracked her brain for some way out of this mess. Anything that could keep her from doing what they were telling her to. She was drawing blanks. "I'm fucked." she thought.   
"If I do this. . " said Maxine. Am I really thinking about doing this?! she thought to herself. Just that morning the very thought of doing something like this would have been an impossibility.   
"You will do this."   
"If I do this." she repeated. "I get the pictures back, right?"   
"This isn't something that we will barter or bargain with. If you do as you're told, the pics won't get leaked and plastered all over every newspaper, tv screen and computer monitor in the world. And you get to live." He handed the shrinking device back to Derek and then got up from his chair. He towered over Maxine. "We're done here." he said "Put the bag back on your head. Craig is going to drive you back to where you met him."   
That was it. She was going to have to do it. There was no way she could get out of this. In a short amount of time she would be betraying the the trust of her fellow officers and shaming everything her father had ever taught her. She felt like she just might have to vomit.   
  
_**~Fin-Fan-Fic-Fanatics~**Letters and comments from readers. Do I rock or do I suck? Write me and tell me what you think. If you don't want your comments put in this letters column, or if you want them taken out, please let me know._   
**If you want to read other stuff I have written, try [Bad Monkey Comics][3]**

**Well, it's certainly been a long time since the last time I put out an issue of this series. It was only going to be a short break at first but I just never seemed to back to writing. I was spending a lot of the time learning how to do CGI artwork with blender. For a while it looked like I might have a professional gig going but I don't think that's going to pan out. Oh, well, it was educational if nothing else. Anyway, the writing bug has struck me again and I cranked out this issue and have part of # 13 done already. There shouldn't be any huge delays with that one.**   
** A rather delightful thing happened to me last week. My storage got broken into and two thousand of my comic books were stolen. I'd been collecting them since I was fourteen and I'm twenty six now. They're just gone. The sad thing is it was probably some junkie that took them and he probably traded them for twenty five bucks worth of whatever junk he was on. Every time I think of what was in those boxes I just want to find the bastard, pull his head off and shit down his neck. Luckily, all the stuff that I couldn't live with out was kept in my house, including my nearly complete Savage Dragon collection.**   
** Enough pissing and moaning, on to the mail-**   
  
Tydrk359@aol.com re: Dragon stories 

i enjoy them man keep up the awesome work. any chance you will have the   
turtles show up in your stories? i found them in the **[goldenarchive section][4]** of the grey archives. you do great   
characterizations. and have a good idea for detail 

**Cool, thanks. No plans for the turtles at this point but you never know what idea might strike me in the dead of night:)**

Brian,   
This was just cool! I thoroughly enjoyed this issue, and even knowing   
the spoilers you shared, I still sat glued to my monitor, scrolling away.   
The only real problem I had was that this dang dinosaur of a computer of mine   
doesn't load text completely. Every time I'd be on the edge of my seat,   
really into the story, I'd have to stop and hit the Reload button, to fill in   
the rest of a paragraph that my computer had chopped. That aside, I loved it.   
I mentioned this when I read your Christmas story, but there's something   
familiar about the way your stories go. I don't know if you instinctively   
tap into archetypes and classic story plots or what, but it always feels like   
I'm settling into a familiar old haunt, and reliving favorite memories,   
y'know? I totally loved it that Sansker wound up not only defeated, but   
screwed, with Mal' owning his soul. Too cool! If you ever do go back to   
Sansker, you've set up a prime story.   
Violator was the perfect comic relief at the end. I don't even like   
that character, really, and I dug him in this. Maybe it was because he   
wasn't that stupid clown (sorry, I just don't like the Clown). Are the   
characters mentioned at the reading of the will original, or has the law   
office of Greed and Deceit been featured in some Spawn related title? Not   
knowing, I at first thought you were shoehorning in a cameo by Wolff and   
Byrd, Counsellors of the Macabre. G&D were just as cool, and I loved the   
description of their offices. 

(eddited)   
  
You said something awhile back about taking time off from the title for   
awhile. I was wondering if you were still going to do that, or what? I   
noticed you name as editor on something recently... A DC Beyond story, maybe?   
Don't burn out on this stuff, man, because I'm digging your stories like   
nobody's business.   
Catch ya later,   
C.L. Bishop 

**Thanks C.L., I always enjoy getting your e-mails. I kinda got this itch in the back of my brain that might turn into some more Sansker issues. We'll see how that goes. The demons mentioned in the reading of the will were made up on the spot as I wrote it. I haven't ever read Wolff and Byrd, Counsellors of the Macabre. Is it any good? Yeah I was editing Superman Beyond when it was being written but the author, Joshua Tibbets retired from fan fic.**   


Dude, that's some pretty cool stuff! 

- Evan Long   
FAO PREZ, glad to see some fan-fic 

**Thanks you..**

Rieferman rieferman@footbag.org 

I must admit that I'm not the usual person you'd see reviewing the fan fiction.. I was never a comic book kid or anything like that growing up. But.. that said, I must say I've been very impressed with all of your writing. I've read everything of yours I could find, and been glued to the screen each time.   
Well, that's all. I just wanted to affirm that your work has been appreciated. Take care, and happy holidays. :-) 

**That's very cool. Thanks. Try the official Savage Dragon comics. They kick ass all over my stories.**

King Boom 

LOL, that's some great stuff 

**King Boom has some cool fantasy yarns over at fanfiction.net. Check them out, they're a fun read. Thanks, Mr Boom, I appreciate the comments. (he reviewed a lot of my stuff. it made me giddy like school girl.)******

**[Link to his stuff][5]**   


**Well, that's all the mail and reviews for the last ish except for a few messages from the Savage Dragon board that I forgot to cut and paste before they were erased. # 13 should be out before too long and then after that I'm planning on doing a double length Dragon 2200 annual. Be sure to check out the new bios on the [home page.][2]**

   [1]: mailto:bcampo@hotmail.com
   [2]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html
   [3]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo/
   [4]: http://goldenarchive.betterbox.net/
   [5]: http://www.fanfiction.net/index.fic?action=Directory-AuthorProfile&UserID=30489



	14. Dragon220 # 13

The Dragon 2200 # 13 The Dragon: 2200 

# 13 

by [Brian Campo][1] (bcampo@hotmail.com)   
(A bad, bad little monkey. ) 

**This is a work of fan fiction.** The Savage Dragon and all related characters are owned by Erik Larsen, and I do not contest   
that ownership. This story is in no way official and it should not be taken as such. All characters in this story not owned by Mr.   
Larsen are owned by me, though I would gladly loan them out if asked nicely. 

**Warning:** This story may contain graphic violence, sexual situations and harsh language. If you shouldn't be reading it, don't. 

Visit the Dragon 2200 home page for back issues and covers ([http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html][2])   


Dan Williams was cursing his luck. He'd been on desk duty for a week because his partner had gone over seas with a bunch of other super powered types to fight some vampires. His boss refused to let him patrol without a Freak partner and insisted that he spend his time catching up on paper work. His partner Maxine returns to work and he thinks he's finally going to get to go out and find some real action. He turns his back for two seconds and she's having some kind of nervous breakdown and runs out of the station, leaving him high and dry and back on desk duty. What had he done to deserve this? he was asking himself. Was there some God he had forgotten to sacrifice to? Some wrong he had committed in a past life that he was being punished for? He looked heavenward and mouthed the word, Why?   
He looked glumly at the small pile of arrest reports he had finished and at the much taller one that he still had to go through and groaned miserably. He fell forward and smacked his head into the top of his desk. At this rate, he'd never get done.   
"Max, you suck." he muttered to no one in particular.   
Deciding he should take a break and kill a little time, he sat up and grabbed the few reports he had finished. Then he pushed in his chair and headed off to the administrative offices to turn them in. If he did it right and took the long route he could kill twenty minutes easy. As he passed the Captain's office he heard Hughes call out to him.   
"You getting those reports done, Williams?"   
"Sure," replied Dan. "I'm a mowing right through them."   
"That's what I like to hear." said the Boss.   
Dan walked away quickly before Hughes start asking how many, specifically, he had gotten finished. Maybe a bathroom break might be in order. It wasn't like it would be slacking off if he had to go to the bathroom. And there was a nice quiet single toilet men's room down on the basement level that no one ever went to. He took the stairs down. Elevator's were a little too quick and efficient when you're trying to kill time. Besides, less chance of running into someone on the stairs. Maybe his luck was improving. No one saw him as he was making his way to the men's room. He could probably lock the door, sit on the john and catch a few winks and nobody would even notice he was missing.   
Just as he was about to go into the men's room, the elevator doors down the hall opened and out stepped Maxine. She was looking the other way and didn't notice him. Dan was going to yell her name and try to get her attention, but then he noticed that she was acting very strangely. Sneaky. She was looking all around like she was afraid someone was following her. She kept her head down so that if she passed anybody in the hall she wouldn't have to look them in the eye. It was just the kind of behavior that would have roused suspicion if it had been someone out on the street doing it. Wondering just what was going on and not wanting to alert her to his presence, Dan stepped halfway into the men's room doorway, out of her line of sight. When he heard the clicking of her heels as she headed down the hall, he stepped back out and followed at a distance. After a few moments he realized that she was headed over to the evidence locker. As she walked up to the security gate Dan hung back and tried to hear what she would say to the clerk on duty.   
"Hello, Chalmers. Whatcha need?" said the clerk. The clerk was inconspicuously hiding a science fiction novel down below the counter. Slacker, thought Dan.   
"Hi, Brad. I just need to look at the serial numbers on some guns we confiscated a while back."   
"Sure." said Brad. "Just sign in right here on the book and then I'll help you find them."   
Max signed the book and said, "Thanks, but I don't need any help. I was just down here the other day looking at them."   
"You sure? It would be no problem."   
"No, I'll be fine." she said to him, smiling.   
The clerk buzzed the gate and Max walked through it. Dan waited until she had gone back into the store rooms and then he approached the clerk. The clerk looked up and said, "Hey, Williams.."   
"My partner just went in. Is it all right if I join her?"   
"You will have to sign in, too."   
Dan nodded and signed the book. Once through the gate he moved quickly through the evidence laden shelves looking for Maxine. He heard the sound of someone moving far in the back and he headed in that direction. A little ways back he caught sight of her moving some boxes around. Coming to a stop one row over from where she was, he peeked between the shelves to see what she was up to.   
She was moving some evidence boxes off of shelves and arranging them in a stack on the floor. From the stickers on the boxes, Dan could tell that they were related to a narcotics case. What the hell was she doing? Maxine picked the last box off of that shelf and set it on the pile. She took a couple steps back reached into her jacket,and pulled out some kind of strange looking gun. She looked around, as if to see if anyone was watching. Dan eased over a step, putting some boxes between himself and Max. She didn't see. When he leaned over to peak a moment later she was aiming the gun at the pile of boxes. She pulled the trigger and a bright flash exploded from the gun's tip. Dan was temporarily blinded by the bright light and clutched at his eyes in surprise. He blinked, trying to clear the spots from his vision. As the spots dissipated he could see that the boxes of drug evidence had disappeared. His brow creased with confusion. Just what was the game here, anyway?   
Max squatted down to the floor and when she stood back up she was holding what looked like a tiny pile of boxes in her palm. Suddenly it struck Dan what she had done. She had a shrinking ray! What was she doing?! Max put the boxes into her jacket pocket and was sticking the gun back into her other pocket. Dan decided it was time for him to clear out. He walked quickly and quietly back toward the gate. Brad told him would have to sign out.   
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." said Dan He grabbed the pen and scrawled his name. He could hear Maxine coming this way. Dropping the pen on the desk he turned and hurried away. 

Maxine came out of the evidence room feeling dirty and guilty. She was a criminal now, no better than all the people that she had put in jail. That morning she had been happy that she was returning to work, but this had turned out to be the worst day of her life. And considering all the things that had happened to her over the last 19 years, that was really saying something. If word ever got out- No, she didn't even want to think about that. Just the thought of the look on her dad's face and she had to fight to hold back the tears.   
Brad buzzed her out of the gate and she started down the hall. "Wait." he called out behind her.   
She froze in her tracks. Did he know?   
"You forgot to sign out."   
Sighing with relief, she returned to the gate and accepted the pen from him. She leaned down to sign the book and then she saw Dan's two signatures. Panic crawled into her chest. Dan had come in after her? What had he seen?   
"You okay, Chalmers?"   
"Huh?" Maxine looked up, startled.   
"Are you okay?" repeated Brad. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."   
"No, I- I'm fine." She hastily signed the book and headed for the elevator. The elevator doors were standing open. Dan was waiting for her inside. For one second she considered turning and running. She knew her strength. No one could stop her if she really wanted to get away.   
"Get in." said Dan. It sounded like an order.   
Her heart was sinking into her stomach as she stepped into the elevator. He closed the door and hit the button for the second floor. He let it rise for a second and then he hit the stop button. The car shuddered to a halt.   
"Now," said Dan. "It's just you and me here talking. What the hell is going on? Don't lie."   
Maxine looked him in the eyes and saw only resolve there. There was no talking her way out of this one. He was going to get the truth out of her. She dropped her gaze to the floor.   
"There is a man." she muttered. "He has some pictures of me. I have to help him or he shows everyone."   
Dan stood quiet for a moment, considering what she had told him. "Pictures of what?" he asked.   
"Pictures of me as a kid."   
"Doing what?"   
"Bad things. With men. Lot's of men."   
Dan turned red, embarrassed. He looked a little sick, too.   
Great, she thought. Now he's ashamed to know me. You deserve this, Max. You deserve the way he's looking at you. The whole world is going to look at you like that.   
"I'm not going to let you do it." he told her.   
"I have to." she whimpered. "Don't you see? If people knew. . . "   
"No." said Dan. "I'm not letting you throw your life away over some stupid photographs. What ever is in those pictures is not worth what you're doing."   
"They'll show everyone what I did." she cried.   
"We'll find another way." he told her.   
"What? What can we do? There isn't anything else we can do!"   
"We'll find another way. First, we're going to return that evidence. Then we're going to see Captain Hughes."   
"No!" Max shook her head violently.   
"Yes. We'll tell him. Not about what you've done today, but about the pictures and the black mailer. He'll know what to do. I may grumble about what a hard ass he is, Max, but he's a good man and he will help you. I'm not going to give you any other choice. You try to walk out of here with those drugs and you'll have to go through me."   
He had her cornered. He knew that she could never bring herself to hurt him. Maxine buried her face in her hands and cried, hard. Her body shuddered with the sobs   
"Why is this happening to me?" she wailed. A moment later she felt Dan's hands hesitantly touch her shoulders. She leaned into him and he pulled her close.   
"We'll beat this." he whispered. 

The three of them sat in silence after Max stopped speaking. No one sure what they should say. Captain Hughes looked across his desk at them, his expression hard to read. Max felt sick. Like she was about to fill a waste basket kind of sick. She felt the stares of the two men in the room and wished that she could just curl up and die. What were they thinking right now? What mental images were running through their minds?   
Dan had offered to leave while she told Hughes the whole story, but she had asked him to stay. He was her strength right now and she wouldn't have been able to get through the telling if she hadn't had him there. Now, she wondered if that too had been a mistake. He knew it all now. Would he still stand beside her?   
"How old were you?" asked Hughes.   
Maxine swallowed hard and said, "It ended when I was nine. Before that as far back as I can remember.."   
"So you never really did any of those things, did you?"   
Max stared at him, bewildered. "I don't know what you mean. I told you, they got pictures of me doing those things." Hadn't he been listening?   
"But you were just a little kid. Did you choose to do them? Did you ask any of those men to do what they did?"   
"No, of course not but-"   
"But nothing." said Hughes. "You didn't do anything. Things were done to you. Big difference. Let me guess. This piece of shit, what was his name?"   
"Victor."   
"Yeah, him. He'd tell you that you deserved it, right?"   
"Yes."   
"He'd abuse you to force you to do the things and then when you were done he made it seem like it was your fault, right?"   
Max nodded.   
"He was programming you from the get go. He kept you in line with fear and guilt. And you're still buying into his bullshit. Still taking the blame for what a loathsome human being did to you. And, you're letting him fuck you over now. Pardon my French. You're giving him power that he doesn't actually have."   
What he was saying made sense, but deep down Maxine could feel herself denying everything. No, I'm to blame. I'm the little slut. I liked it, didn't I? Dirty little girl likes it when they do that, doesn't she? Whore. Filthy. She realized that the little voice that was saying that sounded a lot like Victor. She wondered, how much of what made up Maxine Chalmers was actually created by Victor? From the age of nine back as far as she could remember he was he single biggest influence in her life. Since then it had been her father. Which one was she a product of?   
"What do we do?" she asked.   
"We take his power away from him. He's forcing you to do as he pleases because you are afraid he'll show the world what he did to you. Beat him to the punch. You tell the world what he did to you."   
"You mean, just announce it?" She was horrified.   
"Announce what, Chalmers? That he's a piece of garbage that preys on children? Sounds like news to me."   
"But then everyone would know-"   
He cut her off." That he's a piece of garbage that preys on children. They'd know what HE DID to you. That's all. You got nothing to hide or be ashamed of. You don't say something and he gets away with everything. Now, standing by while a piece of shit walks away scott free, now that is something to be ashamed of. This is how we're going to stop him. A lot of journalists have been trying to get a hold of you for an interview about your Hong Kong adventures. I say we pick one and give him an interview he'll never forget."   
She looked over at Dan. "What do you think about this?"   
Dan shrugged. "Boss man makes a lot of sense."   
Max looked back at Hughes. "It's up to you You can hide from this or you can face it." he said.   
She took a deep breath, let it out and said, "Ok, I'll do it."   
The Captain nodded at her and smiled. "Thatagirl!"   
"What about Victor?" asked Dan.   
"We bust him." said Captain Hughes. "We take him down hard and throw his ass in jail."   
"But, how do we find him? We don't even know where he was. Max was blindfolded when she went to see him."   
"I've been thinking about that." said Hughes. "There might be a way. You were on duty when you were taken to him, right?"   
"Yes." she replied, wondering where he was going with this.   
"So you had your gun with you?"   
"Mm-hmm. Until one of the men took it off of me before I got in the van."   
"What did that guy do?"   
"I believe that he followed along behind us on a dirt bike."   
"Good, good. How about you guys take a lunch I've got to make some phone calls."   
"Just one thing, Captain." said Max as she and Dan got up from their chairs.   
"What's that?"   
"I don't want in on the bust. I'm afraid that I would freeze up and get somebody killed."   
"Why would you freeze up?" asked Hughes   
"Because I'm afraid of him." she said. "Deathly afraid."   
"Because of how he used to abuse you?"   
Max nodded.   
"Don't you think you might be a little stronger now than when you were a kid? You can pick up a bus now."   
"I don't want it." said Maxine.   
"If it were me I think I'd want the opportunity to be the one to take him down."   
"You're not me. I don't want it."   
Hughes studied her for a second and then shrugged. "Fine. We'll do it your way." 

Victor was asleep when one of his men came to let him know what was going on. The light in the bedroom where he was sleeping came on and Derek said, "Victor. Wake up. There's something you should see."   
"Wha-?" he sat up in bed and blinked in the bright light.   
"It's that girl you're black mailing. She's on the Holovid."   
"What?!" he threw off the blanket and leapt out of bed. Derek jumped out of the way as Victor rushed passed him into the living room. His other men were standing around the HV, watching.   
On the screen was the Richard Queen Live show, a talk show hosted by a crusty old reporter. He was well known in the show biz and politics world for being a fair interviewer. He was one of those rare journalists who wasn't given to ambushing the people he was interviewing to try to embarrass them. In his time he had interviewed everyone from presidents to terrorists to super heroes and showed them all the same kind of respect. The show had been a WNN staple for thirty five years.   
Sitting across from Queen at the desk was the girl that Victor knew as Ginny, and an older looking man that he didn't recognize. Queen was just wrapping up the introductions.   
"Tonight on our show we have an exclusive interview with Chicago Super-Cop Maxine Chalmers. Also joining us is her direct superior, Police Captain Bill Hughes. Welcome, to both of you."   
"Thank you." said the girl, and the Captain echoed her.   
"I must say that when we tried to contact you before you were reluctant to do an interview with me, Miss Chalmers Can you tell me why you changed your mind?"   
She nodded. "Because everyone wanted to talk to me about the situation in Hong Kong. I don't want to help make a bigger deal out of what I did there than is necessary. But events of the day have put me in a place that I need to have a public venue."   
"And what events would those be, Miss Chalmers?"   
"I'm being black mailed." said the girl. Victor choked, starting a coughing fit. What was she doing? He suppressed his coughs, trying to hear what she was going to say next. Surely she wasn't stupid enough to rat on him. Was she?   
"I'm here to clear the air about everything." she continued. "What I am about to tell you is not the easiest thing in the world for me to say, but I assure you that every word of it is true. I was raised in a child prostitution brothel on the island of New Vegas. For as far back as I can remember until the age of nine I was forced to perform sexual acts for men who enjoyed sex with children There is a particular type of pedophile that prefers freak children and that what I was used for. Photos of me were taken and were distributed as child pornography. I was not a willing participant so they used what is called a Handler, a super powered individual who's job it is to keep me submissive. He did this by beating the bejeezus out of me any time I didn't do as I was told. At the age of nine I was rescued from the brothel by the man who is now my adoptive father. Earlier today I was contacted by a man that I know only as Victor. Victor was the Handler that abused me as a child. He is using pictures that were taken of me as a child to black mail me in to stealing drugs from out of a police lock up." She stopped then and looked to Queen to see if he had any questions.   
"You really aren't much for beating around the bush, are you?" he said.   
"This has all been hanging over my head for too long. I just want to put all my cards out on the table. Like my Captain here told me earlier in the day, "Victor only has the power that I've given him." I'm taking that power back from him."   
"Excuse me." said Hughes. "I wanted to add something here. Should this "Victor" decide to distribute the pictures I want everyone who is watching this to know, if you do anything but destroy them or turn them over to the authorities you can be arrested for the possession of child pornography. You try publishing these in any way, either by printing or electronic means and you'll be slapped with a distribution charge to boot. You will go to jail, and you'll stay there for a long, long time."   
"What are your plans regarding this Victor character?" asked the host.   
"We're going to arrest him and take him in." said the girl.   
"Like hell you are!" Victor shouted at the HV. "You don't even know where the fuck I am, you little bitch."   
"We have found a way to track him to his current location (Victor and is crew all looked at each other is surprise.) and we should be arresting him at about the same time that this show plays."   
"That's right." said Queen. "I guess I should tell my viewers that part of our agreement to do this interview was that this interview would be prerecorded. In return the Chicago Police have agreed to let WNN follow them as they go to arrest this "Victor" and his men. And, if all goes as planned we should be going to that scene right now, live."   
Sure enough, the scene changed to a night time shoot outside of what Victor recognized as the house they were standing in. On the screen, thirty odd cops were surrounding the house with assault weapons in hand..   
Craig, the man who had driven the girl earlier ran to a window and looked out. "They're everywhere!" he shouted.   
"Kill the lights!" said Victor. "And get the guns."   
"Throw down your weapons. Come out with your hands up." someone with a bullhorn called out from outside. The voice came in stereo, both from outside and over the HV.   
The house went dark and quiet except for the scuffle of his men getting into position. Someone turned the volume down on the HV but left it on so that they could keep an eye on what was happening outside. Spotlights lit up outside and shone through the windows.   
Victor huddled down beneath their questing beams and wondered how things could have gone so badly so quickly. 

Maxine stood back with Captain Hughes behind some police barricades and watched as the SWAT teams and 32nd precinct officers rushed the house. Frank Filco, a freak cop with the power to cause anything he touched to vibrate put his hands on the front door and put his powers to work. The door shook on it's hinges and then disintegrated into sawdust. Officers went through the open door with weapons raised. There were loud shouts from in the house as the cops ordered the men insde to drop thier weapons and to kiss the floor. They must have decided to decline. The house lit up and the roar of gun fire erupted out through the door. A full fledged fire fight ensued. Windows shattered and siding exploded as stray bullets exited the house. There was no way to know who was winning from out here. More cops were going through the door to back up their comrades.   
The side of the house was tore open, and something launched itself through the hole in the wall. It was Victor. He landed on the yard of the house in a crouch and quickly scanned the immediate area. Someone else came hurtling out of the hole in the side of the house and landed on Victor's back. It's was Jack Palen, the freak cop with feline features and incredible strength. He wrapped his arms around Victor's neck and squeezed. Victor reached up and grabbed a hold of Jack's mane. He yanked forward, pulling Jack of off his back and slamming him to the ground. He slugged the helpless cop in the face twice before jumping to his feet and taking off at a run.   
"He's getting away!" shouted Maxine. "Over there." She tried pointing him out to some of the other cops but they were too wound up in the fire fight to notice.   
Jack Palen was getting to his feet, but he looked shaky. He took off in pursuit still trying to shake off the punches he had received A SWAT officer noticed Victor running and moved to cut him off.   
"Hold it right there!" he shouted, "or I'll shoot."   
"Get of the way!" Maxine shouted at him. "He's going to kill you!"   
The SWAT officer opened fire on Victor. They were just regular 45 caliber rounds so they just bounced harmlessly off of Victor as he charged at him. Max took off running. It didn't matter how scared she was, she couldn't let Victor kill that man. She jumped over the barricade and the leap carried her twenty feet closer to Victor. She saw Jack closing in on him from the other side and it was clear that he would be able to reach him quicker. She aimed instead for the SWAT Officer, intending to get him out of the way. It was very close. Maxine snatched the man out of Victor's path just a second before he would have been crushed. Quickly, she pushed him towards the safety of the barricades and then turned to intercept Victor.   
Jack was jumping into the air, his four inch claws extended. Victor spun with one arm held out and cloths lined the cop, catching him in the throat and dropping him right to the ground. Jack clutched at his throat and wheezed, trying to suck air in through his injured windpipe. Victor turned toward the sound of Max's approaching footsteps and smiled when he saw who it was.   
"You've been very bad, Ginny. Time to take your medicine." His fist lashed out like a connonball exploding from a cannon and just narrowly missed Max's face. She went low and came up under his swinging arms, throwing all of her strength into shoving against his rib cage. He was lifted off of the ground and thrown backwards. THUD! He landed on his back and on the back of his head. He rolled and scrambled to his feet as she closed in on him again. He landed a punch that caught her in the left shoulder and turned her arm numb. She answered with a poorly aimed right to his ear.   
It was then that an amazing thing happened. For her, time seemed to slow down. Details came in to focus. She saw him in crystal clarity. He stumbled. He almost fell. He felt that! she realized. Oh, my god! For just one second she saw something in his eyes. Fear. He was afraid. Afraid of her.   
"Heh." she half laughed, stunned by the revelation. So stunned that she almost didn't react in time when he recovered and attacked again. He roared as he threw himself back at her. Rage contorted his face. Max dodged his punch and then caught his wrist as it flashed past. She delivered a doozy of an uppercut to his outstretched elbow and his arm snapped over backwards. Victor squealed, like a stuck pig he squealed. Nothing had ever sounded so sweet to her. She reveled in the sound of him in pain. Max pressed into him, firing off a left to his jaw. The jaw snapped and teeth exploded from the left side of his face. He was going down. She wasn't done with him. She grabbed a hold of his shirt as he tumbled backwards and rode him to the ground. They hit the pavement hard and for a moment she almost tumbled off of him. She used her handhold on his shirt to pull herself into a better position and then proceeded to pounded on his face with her right fist. She went nuts on him, letting nineteen years of fear fuel her attack. He couldn't even defend himself. He was out cold after the second blow.   
"You motherfucking, cock sucking son of a bitch, I'll kill you I swear to fucking God, I'll kill you, you goddamn bastard-"   
She was able to land about twenty five direct hits to his face before she was hit from the side and tackled off of Victor's prone form. She hit the ground and lashed out, trying to hit whoever had hit her. She caught sight of Jack Palen scrambling away from her.   
"Enough!" he shouted at her as he got out of swinging range. "It's over, Chalmers. He's down! You got him."   
Max found herself short of breath. She sat still for a moment, trying to catch it. Her heart beat was racing.   
"Let it go." Jack told her. "Just relax. It's all over."   
She did. She took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The rage in her receded, draining out of her a little ar a time. A little dazed, she looked around. There were other cops standing nearby, looking at her in awe. She looked down and saw that she was covered in blood splatters. Victor's blood. What a sight she must have been.   
She had beaten him. He had been her nightmare for so long and now it turned out he was nothing. He hadn't even put up a decent fight. She had beaten him. How different would her life be now that her fear of him was gone?   
It was quiet. The assault on the house must be over. Her eyes turned that way and she saw cops filing out, some carrying wounded comrades. Jack came over towards her, offering her a hand. She accepted it. 

NEXT: The Dragon 2200 Anuual. A double length, ass kicking extravaganza. The Angelican Arrives! (that should be really ominous sounding.)   
  
_**~Fin-Fan-Fic-Fanatics~**Letters and comments from readers. Do I rock or do I suck? Write me and tell me what you think. If you don't want your comments put in this letters column, or if you want them taken out, please let me know._   
**Like this Stuff? Try [Bad Monkey Comics][3], the webpage were I put up all my art and writing.**   
**Hey, all you artists! Send pictures! Just pick any of the characters in this fan fic series and send me your artistic interpretation of them. Please!******

**No letters this time. I'm not waiting long enough between issues to even get any. See you next time, BCAMPO**   


   [1]: mailto:bcampo@hotmail.com
   [2]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/icffa/dragonifshome.html
   [3]: http://www.angelfire.com/or/bcampo



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